Diary of Jane
by zealprophet27
Summary: Waking up cold and broken, in a world that I don't recognize is dangerous enough but to try and figure out who you are -who you were- in the middle of a war could mean that death is just around the corner. With only the words written in an old leather bound journal and the help from a few friends, I pray that I might one day remember all that was taken from me before it's too late.
1. One Cold Night

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! I have returned!**

 **A few things before we get started...I am no where near finishing this story. My usual MO has always been to have at least 10-20 pre-written chapters that I can look over before posting and keep a schedule for uploading new chapters. This might not be the case for this story because earlier this year, I did have a baby. Writing full time just isn't possible anymore, as you can imagine, so bear with me on the uploading of new chapters! I will try my best to get you a new chapter as quickly as possible, but like I said, baby and writing are not good bed fellows. I think I have about 6 pre-written chapters, but they still need some work. I just missed my readers and wanted to share with you the story in which I have been working on (the one that was requested a couple years ago)! =)**

 **So...yeah. I hope that you will enjoy this story as much as you have enjoyed the others. Without you, none of those stories would have been successful, nor would I have started this one without the suggestions and requests you have sent to me (Looking at you specifically, Jessie).**

 **I think that about covers it. Baby, writing, updating, patience. Yep. That's it. =)**

 **And as always, reviews make for happier days!**

* * *

The world shook violently around me, jolting me awake. My eyes flew open and it took me a moment to remember where I was. With each ear piercing boom that landed all around me, my heart felt like it was going to explode within my chest. Shouts for medics echoed around me. I didn't move.

I didn't hear the footsteps running towards my foxhole until the man stopped above me. He glared down and shouted at me, "What are you still doing in there? We've got men getting killed out there! Come on! We need you!"

I stared up at him, blinking at his words. I was trying to remember who he was. I felt like I knew who he was, but for the life of me, I couldn't place my finger on his name.

He jumped into my foxhole and grabbed me by the collar, pulling me to my feet. He began pushing me out of my cover. "Come on, Jane! Let's move!"

I scrambled out of my foxhole on my hands and knees. Firm hands grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet. The soldier glared at me again. "What's your problem? Come on! Follow me!"

I watched as he ran away from me, leading me into the thick of it. I took a shaky breath as I began to run behind him. With each blast that landed around us, I slowly started to remember what was going on, what I was doing in this frozen forest, and what was expected of me.

When we arrived at our destination, I saw a young man clutching his stomach. Bright red blood had begun to seep out onto the white snow. I stood there and stared at the scene before me. My mouth had gone dry and I was shaking.

The men who were surrounding the wounded man were looking at me. I could see the confusion in their faces as I stood there, staring back.

"Jane! We need you!" one of them shouted at me.

I released a heavy sigh and jumped into the fray. I began to do what I thought I needed to do. When I found the wound, I started to work on fixing the man the best that I could. The wound looked worse than it truly was and I managed to get him patched up long enough for the Jeeps to arrive. When the drivers arrived, we got the bleeding man onto the back of the Jeep, ready to head out for the aide station.

I stood there, watching as they drove him away. The men who were there with him had turned to look at me. I felt uncomfortable as they glared at me. Some were looks of sympathy, but there were quite a few angry glances. None of them said a word to me.

I walked back to my cover and hopped in. Slumping against the back of the foxhole, I looked at my hands. They were caked with blood, some fresh, but mostly old. I began to wonder just how long I had been here in this crazy cold world. Grabbing some fresh snow from the ground, I started to clean my hands off. Once I was done cleaning them as best as I could, I closed my eyes, willing myself to remember what I couldn't. I sighed as I grew frustrated with myself.

Footsteps approached my foxhole but stopped at the edge. "Jane?"

I opened my eyes, glancing up at my visitor. The man who stood above me wore a medic patch on his jacket sleeve and had a pack slung across his shoulder. I blinked at his presence. I couldn't remember his name either.

He knelt down beside my cover. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," I replied quietly.

He slid in next to me and began rubbing his hands together for warmth. He looked over at me with his dark eyes and asked, "How are you holding up?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

He blew into his hands and stated, "I just came from Captain Winters. I guess there have been a few complaints."

"Complaints? About what?" I asked. I didn't want to ask who Captain Winters was, but it must have shown on my face as the man next to me gave me a concerned glance.

The man replied, "The men are worried that you're too far gone and we need to get rid of you."

"Get rid of me?" I asked. I realized how serious this conversation was becoming but I was at a loss. I couldn't remember and I wanted to cry.

"We're surrounded, so we're unable to replace you, but Lieutenant Dike has been demanding a replacement for you. He thinks you're going to get someone killed because of what happened," he stated.

I didn't say anything. I had nothing to say as nothing was making sense.

"Jane, I have to ask. Do you remember anything? Or anyone?" the man asked me.

I shook my head. "I barely know who I am."

The man studied my face before saying, "You're Jane Finley. You started out as a field photographer for the New York Times, but now you're a field nurse for Easy Company. You've been with Easy Company from the start."

I was trying to take in what he was saying, trying to remember what he was saying and hoping that I would believe those words. My head was beginning to hurt with my intense concentration.

"My name is Eugene. Doc Roe...remember?" he asked, studying me with his brown eyes.

I met his gaze. "Eugene...Roe...What happened to me?"

He sighed. "You had an accident." After a moment of silence, he asked, "You really don't remember, do you?"

I shook my head again. "What accident?"

Roe replied, "During one of the shellings, you were knocked back - hit your head pretty hard. Everyone was worried for you, but you seemed to have made a recovery."

"Now everyone wants to get rid of me," I recalled.

He looked ashamed. "It's nothing personal. I think they worry about your safety, especially if you don't remember where you are...or who you are."

"So, what do I do?" I questioned.

Roe stated, "I'm going to help you remember. I'll do whatever I can to help you remember."

I glanced up at him. He was sincere in his statement, almost like he had to for himself too. I offered him a half smile. "Thanks, Eugene."

After a moment of silence, he asked, "Do you still have your journal?"

"Journal?" I repeated.

He looked as though he just remembered that I had no memory of anything and looked ashamed. He nodded. "You used to write in your journal every day. Maybe if you looked through the journal and started to write what you're going through now, maybe it will help."

I grabbed my bag, which had a medic symbol, much like the one Roe had on his sleeve, sloppily sewn on. I opened it to find a thick leather bound book amongst gauze, film canisters, and a broken camera. I withdrew the book and glanced over the brown leather cover before looking at Roe. "Do you really think this will help?"

"It couldn't hurt," he replied.

I broke our eye contact to look back at the book. I hoped that whatever was inside the confines of the book would provide me answers and a detailed description of my life to help me remember.

I sighed as I opened the book and looked at the first page of words. Roe had given my shoulder a gentle squeeze before he climbed out to leave me alone with my former self's writings.

 _I walked into the editor's office at the New York Times newspaper. He looked up from his desk while talking on the phone. He motioned for me to sit as he continued his conversation._

 _I glanced about the office, taking in the many photos that hung on the walls. It was filled with photos from sports to events in the city._

 _When the editor hung up the phone, he cleared his throat. "Ah, Miss Finley, I presume?"_

 _I shook his hand and nodded. "Yes sir."_

 _"I am told that you are interested in becoming a field photographer?" he asked, looking me over._

 _I shifted in my chair. "Yes sir."_

 _"I don't normally give people of your...stature, a job such as this. Why are you interested in doing such a task?" he asked._

 _I wasn't sure what his first sentence meant, but I explained, "I want to help in any way that I can. I want to get those real moments behind the lines of our men as they fight for our country."_

 _The editor seemed pleased with my answer. He smiled wide, showing his dirty and crooked teeth. "Have you ever used a camera like this?"_

 _He pulled out a green camera and placed it on his desk. I picked it up and looked through the viewfinder. Lowering it from my face, I explained, "Seems easy enough."_

 _"That there is a Kodak 35, military style. You seem pretty familiar with cameras," the man pointed out._

 _I nodded. "I've worked with them before. My father was an avid photographer back in his day."_

 _"Well, Miss Finley, I think you'll do just fine. What would you say to working for us at the rate of $5 a photo?" he asked._

 _"I guess that depends on how many of the photos you'll use?" I asked._

 _He chuckled. "If you have a keen eye, and if you provide the photos you're promising to take, I'll use as many as you can take. Many of the newspapers in the country are not even sending any photographers to the lines. So, I assure you that I'll use as many as you can give me."_

 _I thought about it for a moment before nodding. "How many film canisters will you be providing me?"_

 _"I'll be sending you replacements as often as I can get them to you," he replied._

 _I stood up and stated, "Then I better get packing."_

 _He stood up and shook my hand. "Very good. I'll get your film canisters together. Come back tomorrow to pick them up."_

 _I took my leave from his office and as I started to leave the building, I overheard a few men smoking in the hallway talking._

 _"Did you hear that Mr. Bradley hired some woman for the photographer gig?"_

 _"The job for the war effort?"_

 _"The same."_

 _"A woman? Why would he hire a woman?"_

 _"Because he doesn't want to lose any of his men to such a dangerous job. I guess he thinks that if a woman dies, no one will notice," the first man explained._

 _I scoffed at the conversation as I was filled with anger at such a remark. Turning on my heels, I stormed back into the office of Bradley. When I threw the door open, it slammed against the wall. Bradley looked stunned._

 _"Is it true? Did you only hire me because you think no one will care about me if I die behind enemy lines?" I spat._

 _Mr. Bradley looked like a cornered rat. "What? Why would I do such a thing?"_

 _"That's what I want to know," I shouted at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "If it is true, then I want no part in this. Find someone else."_

 _"Wait! Wait! Okay, that may have been a contributing factor, but how about I make the offer better?" he asked._

 _"You're seriously going to try and make the offer better in hopes that I won't walk out of here?" I glared at him._

 _"You can keep the camera! I'll give you $10 per photo and I'll make sure to keep full tabs on you while you're out there. I'll personally call my friends who work at Battalion Headquarters to get you into the best Company to ensure your survival!" he stated. He sounded desperate._

 _I thought about the new offer. The money would ensure that my family would survive while I was gone and it was more than I would make in a month. I felt like I was selling my soul, but I looked at him and said, "Make sure that the money goes to my family. And I want a sign-on bonus."_

 _"$50 bonus for signing on. Is that good enough?" he asked._

 _I nodded. "I'll take that now, if you don't mind."_

 _He sighed as he pulled out his wallet and dug out the bill. He held it out for me to take. Once I took it from his hand, I said, "Thank you."_

 _"How'd you find out?" he asked._

 _"Small office," I replied as I headed out the door._

 _I walked into my family home and could smell the amazing aroma of my mother's baking. It instantly made me happier the moment the smell of apple pie filled my nostrils._

 _Walking into the kitchen, I placed the money on the counter before her._

 _She stared at the bill before slowly raising her brown eyes to meet mine. "Jane? What did you do?"_

 _"I got a job. Now you and dad don't have to worry about where the money will come from," I stated._

 _She picked the bill up and placed it back into my hand. "I don't want your money."_

 _"I know, but I have to do something to help out around here. This is more than I'd ever make in months. This will keep you both safe and warm for a long while, and you'll have a steady amount coming in-" I was cut off._

 _"I don't want you out there!" she shouted at me._

 _My father entered the room, removing his reading glasses. "What is going on in here?"_

 _My mother left the room crying. I felt guilty for trying to help. I sighed as I glanced up at my father. I explained, "I got a job and she's not happy with me."_

 _"What kind of job?" he asked, placing his newspaper and glasses onto the counter._

 _"It's a photographer job with the New York Times," I stated, putting the money back onto the counter. "That's my sign-on bonus."_

 _My father looked at the bill on his newspaper. "When do you leave?"_

 _"I have to pick up my camera and film tomorrow. I'll probably find out where I'll be going then," I said. I didn't know what he was thinking. He was hiding all of his emotions, which was something he was famous for._

 _Nodding, he said, "I'll take you tomorrow."_

 _I studied his face for a moment. He wasn't looking at me, nor showing that he was approving this decision._

 _I asked, "Are you mad at me? For taking this job?"_

 _"No, I'm not mad, but I'm not going to tell you what to do. You want to take this job, and there would be nothing to come from an argument about why you shouldn't go. You'll do what you think is best, and all I can do is support you as you've chosen to do for us," he stated sadly. "Now, I've got to calm your mother down."_

 _The moment he left the room, I started to wonder if I had made a huge mistake._

 _The next morning, my father drove me to the front of the New York Times newspaper office. We sat awkwardly in front of the building for a moment before I asked, "Are you going to wait or should I get a cab home?"_

 _"I'll wait for you right here," he replied. Still not showing any signs of approval._

 _I sighed as I exited the car. Entering the building, I passed the same two who were smoking in the hallway before. They stared at me, but said nothing._

 _When I entered Bradley's office, he was already expecting me. "Ah, Miss Finley. Right on time."_

 _I nodded and asked, "So, do I have my assignment?"_

 _He chuckled. "Straight to business. I like that." Clearing his throat, he motioned to the messenger bag on his desk. "Your camera and several canisters of film. Also inside the bag is your instructions on where to go."_

 _I picked up the bag and started looking through it. He was right, there was a camera and some film canisters inside with a folder._

 _He added, "I spoke to my friends in Battalion Headquarters. They've selected their best outfit to place you in. Are you afraid of heights?"_

 _I glanced up at him. "No...?"_

 _"Good. You're going to the Airborne training field," he stated._

 _"Airborne? As in, jumping from airplanes?" I asked. I had read about this new branch in our military. I wasn't convinced that this was the best place for me to be in._

 _He nodded, inhaling from his cigarette. "The same. I've been reassured that Easy Company is the best in the outfit. You'll be in good hands. You'll report to Colonel Sink and Lieutenant Sobel. Your plane leaves this afternoon. Good luck, Finley."_

 _I slung the bag over my shoulder and shook Bradley's hand. "Thank you."_

 _I turned on my heel and walked out of the office. I was confused as to how the Airborne was the best. It was still a new concept for us, yet Bradley was convinced it was the place for me to be. I had already argued with him over my position and I knew if I were to argue with him over this, I'd lose this opportunity. I couldn't risk that, not while my family's well being was at stake._

 _As I started to head out of the building, the two men in the hallway smirked as I walked by them. I stopped and turned to face them. "Something on your minds?"_

 _The smiles on their faces widened.. "No. Not a thing. Good luck jumping from airplanes!"_

 _I smiled back at them. "Yeah, thanks. Good luck searching for a new job."_

 _They looked at each other, then back to me. I turned away from them, exiting the building._

 _I climbed into the passenger seat of my father's car. He asked, "How'd it go?"_

 _"My plane leaves this afternoon," I stated._

 _He started to pull away from the building, taking me home so that I could pack._

 _I packed my things into my father's old duffel bag. I wasn't sure what I was going to be allowed to take with me, but I wanted to be prepared. A gentle knock landed on my door. "Come in."_

 _The door opened behind me. I turned around to see my father standing in the doorway. "Got a minute?"_

 _I stopped what I was doing to give him my undivided attention.. "Sure."_

 _He took a cautious step into my room and held out a package. "I want you to have this."_

 _"What is it?" I asked as I pulled the parchment paper away to reveal a leather bound book._

 _"When I served in the military, it helped me to write about my experiences. I think you should do the same," he replied. He rarely spoke of his days in the service, so this was monumental._

 _I looked down at the book. "Thanks."_

 _He whispered, "I'm sorry that I couldn't provide better for you and your mother." I knew where this was going to go. He felt guilty that he had gotten severely injured at his job at the local factory when he returned from his military service and because he didn't have a union to protect him, he was fired on the spot. He tried hard to find work elsewhere, but there were not many places who were willing to hire a man who was considered a liability._

 _"I'm not. You did so much for us. It's my turn now," I replied honestly._

 _He admitted, "Your mother blames me for your leaving. I blame myself as well."_

 _"Well don't. This was my choice. It had nothing to do with you or mother. This is all me," I said with confidence. He didn't need to take blame for my actions. It was going to be hard enough on him having to feel the guilt my mother would give him every day I was gone; he didn't need to feel it with me._

 _"Are you about ready? I've got to take you to the airstrip." He started his exit from my room._

 _"I'll be there in a moment," I called after him. I placed the book into my camera bag and took in my room one last time. It was filled with many happy memories, but now it felt as though it would become the saddest room in the house, especially for my parents. I just prayed they would understand what I was doing._

 _I slung the camera bag over my shoulder and picked up my duffel. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror on my vanity. My auburn hair was slightly disheveled and worry had struck my mismatched eyes. I blew out a heavy sigh and took my leave from my room._

 _The moment that I stepped foot off the plane at the base in Georgia that I would be training at, I felt this wave of anxiety. I was beginning to wonder what I had gotten myself into._

 _An older looking gentleman in full uniform approached me. "Miss Finley?"_

 _"Yes sir," I replied, stepping forward, dropping my duffel to the ground in order to shake his extended hand._

 _"I'm Colonel Sink. I was told you'd be arriving today," he said, releasing my hand._

 _Before I could say another word, Sink had looked over his shoulder. "This here is Lieutenant Sobel. He is the commanding officer of Easy Company and you will report to him while you're here."_

 _"Yes sir," I said as I reached out towards Sobel who glared at the gesture._

 _Sobel narrowed his beady eyes at me. "What's wrong with your eyes?"_

 _I knew how this would go. It never failed in the past. My left eye was brown, while the other was half blue and hazel, almost a perfect blend of my parents' eyes. I knew that people who were not accustomed to seeing eyes like mine would ask questions or think that there was something wrong with me.. I looked between Sink and Sobel, both of whom were staring at my eyes. "My eyes are perfectly fine, sir."_

 _"If they were perfectly fine, then why are they different colors?" Sobel spat at me._

 _Sink cleared his throat, almost warning Sobel to ease up, but Sobel waited for my answer. I replied, "My vision is perfect, but the coloring is not."_

 _Sobel continued staring at me, making me shift in my place uncomfortably. "I want your eyes tested."_

 _"You sound like you don't believe me," I pointed out._

 _Sobel took a step forward and replied, "I don't. And if you're going to be a part of this Company, then you need to follow basic protocol. You address officers with the proper 'sir'. Do you understand?"_

 _"Yes, I do. However, I'm not military. I'm a photographer._ Sir _," I replied with just a hint of sarcasm on the 'sir'._

 _Sink chuckled. "All right, let's get going. You've had a long trip. Let's get you settled into your barracks."_

 _I picked up my duffel and brushed passed Sobel. I could tell already that he was going to be a problem._

 _After I got my things into the barracks, Sobel had immediately ordered me to follow him to the med station for examination. Along the way, he informed me that I would be expected to stay out of the men's way while I was there. 'Seen and not heard', he said._

 _Upon entering the med station, Sobel shouted at the lone soldier inside, "Doc Roe!"_

 _The black haired man turned around, eyes bouncing between me and Sobel as he made his approach. "Sir?"_

 _"I want her vision checked. If you determine that they are not up to the standards of this Company, I want you to inform me immediately," Sobel stated._

 _Roe nodded. "I'll let you know as soon as I'm finished."_

 _Sobel looked at me one last time before taking his leave._

 _Roe blinked at me for a moment. "Have a seat, Miss...?"_

 _"Finley. Jane is just fine though," I replied._

 _"Jane. I'm Eugene. What brings you here?" he asked, clearly confused to see a woman on base.._

 _"I'm a field photographer. Of course, if you ask Sobel, he wants me to be a ghost," I stated._

 _Roe motioned for me to sit down. Once seated, I asked, "What does this entail?"_

 _"What? The exam?" he asked._

 _"Yeah, the exam. My vision is fine," I explained._

 _Roe took out his instruments and set them out on the table. "I'm sure that it is, but he's ordered me to give you the exam. I have no choice."_

 _I sighed. "He seems like a piece of work."_

 _I could see that Roe was holding back some laughter. He nodded and started his examination. He said, "You've got lovely eyes."_

 _"Thanks," I muttered, unsure if I believed his words. No one had ever said that to me before which made believing him that much more difficult._

 _Roe shined his light into my eyes, blinding me for a moment._

Bright white light filled the night sky. I blinked at the light, glancing up to see a flare falling back down to the earth. I slumped further into my foxhole.

I tossed my journal back into my bag. It was too dark to try and make out what was written within the leather covers and my head was beginning to hurt as I continued to read through what still felt like someone else's thoughts.

I closed my eyes and released a heavy sigh. The world around me was deathly quiet. I loved and hated the quiet. It was nice to have a break from war, but on the flip side, it was when it got quiet that the enemy would attack and kill several of our men.

It wasn't long before I felt myself drift off to sleep.


	2. Part That's Holding On

**A/N: Ah, feels so nice to be back!**

 **Thank you Queenie, RJ North, Wildflower Field, and lipamo for your reviews! It made me smile to see familiar names in my inbox! And also, thank you for your congratulatory messages and also for taking the time to read this new story (and that you're enjoying it already! Yay!) I'm hoping that I can spend some time writing this week!**

 **Anyways...here's the next chapter! As always, reviews make for happier days! Enjoy!**

* * *

I was running through the frozen forest as quickly as my legs could carry me. My lungs burned as the cold air filled them. The sounds of shells falling down behind me was propelling me forward.

I heard screams and shouts all around me. I knew that I needed to get to them before it was too late to save them. It was difficult to pinpoint their exact location as it felt like it was all around me. I picked a direction and prayed that it was the right one.

With the screams growing louder, I knew that I was nearing someone. As I stopped above the foxhole, I could see one of the replacements grabbing his face, blood gushing down his hands. He was banged up pretty badly. I started to kneel down to hop into the foxhole when the world around me grew bright and heat enveloped me.

I felt like I was floating in the air, like I was waking up from one of those dreams where you're falling back into your body. When I landed, my chest felt like it was being crushed by a massive weight and I saw fireworks before it grew cold and dark.

I still remember hearing my name within the screams and explosions.

I jolted awake. Shivering, I pulled my jacket closer to my chest, trying to save what little warmth I had. I was alone in my cover which I was thankful for because I wouldn't have to talk about the dream.

I wasn't completely sure if it was a dream or some distant memory. I figured it would be best to ask Roe the next time I saw him.

I peered over the top of my foxhole, scanning the area. The men were walking about, getting breakfast before returning to the line.

I carefully climbed out of my foxhole and headed towards the back of the line where the cook was distributing the meal to the men. I overheard men complaining about the meal choice, but I didn't care. It was food and I knew how precious such a thing was these days, and frankly, anything beat lemon flavored snow.

Standing in line, I searched the area. When my eyes focused on Roe, I stepped away from my place to approach him. He didn't see me coming.

"Eugene?" I started.

He blinked up at me from his spot under the tree. "Jane."

"You okay?" I asked.

He looked away from me and gazed blankly back in front of him. I knelt down to his level and asked, "Hey... Are you okay?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

"What happened?" I pushed him further.

"Came across a battle field this morning. Every one's faces were frozen in place, still showing the pain they endured before they died," he whispered.

I sat down next to him. "I'm sorry."

He sighed as he asked, "You okay?"

I nodded. "I had a question for you, but I think it should wait."

He didn't say another word or look at me. It made me wonder if what he saw out there in the forest had impacted him harder than he was letting me to believe. I knew that I couldn't push him to talk about it any more, so I just stood up and walked away from him.

When I rejoined the line for food, a tall man had approached me. "Jane. How's he doing?"

I glanced up at the red haired man. The moment I met his gaze, his name came rushing back to me. It surprised me a little, but I kept my composure as I replied, "I'm not sure. He's not really talking about whatever he saw. It's got me a little worried."  
"Just keep an eye on him," he stated. After I nodded that I heard him, he added, "How are you holding up?"

I blew an exhale. "It's been challenging, but I'm slowly starting to remember things. I have Roe to thank for that."

"How so?" Winters asked.

I stepped forward as the line moved. "He suggested that I read my journal. He thought that it would help me remember what I can't. It didn't seem like it was doing me any good, but now I can remember bits."

"Glad to hear it, Jane. Keep at it. Let me know if I can do anything to help," he offered.

I smiled and then remembered something. "Oh, um, there is one thing I was hoping you could help me with."

He waited for me to continue.

"Do you think there's a way to get a replacement camera sent in for me? It looks like my old one got banged up. I'm not sure if I'll be able to fix it," I said.

He chuckled. "I'll see what I can do, but no promises. What kind of camera?"

"It's a Kodak 35," I replied without hesitation. I realized after he walked away from me that I remembered what kind of camera I had, even though I had yet to remember ever using it. I had briefly seen the broken one in my pack, but I never removed it to get a closer look at it. Suddenly, I wondered if I had remembered it from my actual memory or if I just randomly remembered a model of camera. Then I recalled reading it in my journal, but I knew it was only mentioned the one time out of the pages that I read. Perhaps I had just recalled by memory.

I walked away from the food line, no longer interested in getting something to eat. I wanted to know for certain if I had just remembered something on my own or not.

When I jumped into my foxhole, I grabbed my pack. Opening the bag, I pulled out the small green camera. It was indeed a Kodak 35, as it was printed on the front. I laughed, covering my mouth at the surprise.

Examining the camera further, I could see the damage that was done. From what I could tell, it looked as though a blast from a shell had severely mangled it. The best case scenario was that this camera I had left was scrap for parts.

As I sat there looking at the damaged camera, I heard footsteps stop above me. A loud sigh was released before the man spoke. "You're not seriously considering pulling that out again?"

I glanced up to see a Lieutenant standing before me. I remembered the conversation between me and Roe about a Lieutenant Dike wanting to get rid of me and he seemed to fit the bill of such a person. "Just checking the damage to see if I can fix it."

"You and your camera shouldn't be here," he stated.

I nodded. "I couldn't agree with you more."

This confused him. He was expecting me to argue with him. I'm sure that my former self would have given him some speech about how this was the right thing to do, to show people back home how bad it is on the lines, and what we could be doing to prevent things like this from happening, but the person that I was now, didn't think the same way as the one in the first few journal entries. I wasn't sure that I believed in the same cause as that girl, but I was still trying to determine who I was.

Dike stormed away from me, and I returned to looking over the camera. I hoped that Winters would be able to get me another camera.

I pulled out my journal again, desperate for answers. Opening the book, I set to work.

 _I had just finished taking photos of the men during their PT training, when I noticed several of the NCOs heading towards their barracks. They looked angry. I furrowed my brow and headed in after them._

 _As I approached the door, I knocked on it to let them know that I was standing there._

 _They turned to glare at me. I raised my hands up in a defensive manner. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I was hoping to take some photos of the NCOs as they worked... but I can see that's not a good idea."_

 _Talbert looked about the men before waving me forward. "You have to promise not to say anything."_

 _"Who would I tell?" I asked. I wasn't military, so I didn't care what they did or didn't do._

 _Talbert nodded and sat down. The men followed in suit._

 _I started taking pictures of them as they sat around the table, looking particularly frustrated._

 _"I refuse to go into battle under that man's command," Guarnere stated._

 _I blinked a couple of times, removing the camera from my face. I suddenly realized the seriousness of this situation._

 _"Just to be clear, if we do this, we could be lined up against a wall and shot. Now, I'm prepared to do that. You better be too," Lipton replied as he looked at every man, then his eyes landed on me._

 _I stopped taking pictures completely. I was no longer interested in covering this side of the war. I knew who they were talking about. They had been completely frustrated with Sobel, even before we arrived in England, but it seemed as though Sobel was making the situation ten times worse the moment he stepped off the plane, entering the English countryside. I knew that if I had been in their shoes, I would have done the same thing they were and would be willing to die to prove to the higher ups that this was a mistake having such a man like Sobel leading._

 _When they finished writing the letters of appeal, Lipton stood up and addressed the men. "Good luck to all of you."_

 _After he gathered the letters from every one, he walked out of the building. The men stayed behind, not speaking a word but slowly began taking their leave._

 _I looked at Talbert and asked, "What's going to happen now?"_

 _"With any luck, Colonel Sink will realize that having Sobel in command is a mistake. He's going to lose all of his NCOs...I mean, this is mutiny. He's going to be pissed."_

 _I nodded in agreement, but I whispered, "I hope for your sake that he pulls Sobel. I'd love to be there to capture that moment."_

 _Talbert chuckled and admitted, "If you do capture that moment, I'd buy a copy of that photo."_

 _I shared a laugh at his joke as we headed outside._

 _Later that afternoon, I was walking down the lane. I glanced up to see Winters taking an inventory of supplies that had arrived for the mess hall. I stopped to take pictures. Just as I pulled my camera out, I peered through the viewfinder to see the NCOs exit HQ._

 _Lowering my camera from my face, I noticed that they were all dressed in their dress uniforms. They looked like they had been through the ringer. I suddenly remembered the letters they turned in._

 _Just as they began to approach Winters, they saluted in unison. I quickly started snapping photos to capture this moment. Once it was over, Winters had continued to stare after them, confusion on his face was apparent. I continued taking photos of him, until he noticed that I was standing there._

 _I lowered the camera and felt ashamed. I wondered if what I was doing was right or not. It felt like spying._

 _It wasn't until later that evening, that I had seen Sobel exiting HQ. He looked angry. I wondered if he had indeed gotten reprimanded for his actions against Easy Company and if the NCOs' letters had gotten through to Sink._

 _As the Jeep passed by me, Sobel glared his beady eyes in my direction. I waited for him to drive by before snapping a photo of the moment. I knew this wasn't the photo that Talbert wanted, but I knew it would be one to remember in years to come._

"Jane?" a familiar voice spoke to me.

I glanced up from my journal and saw Roe climbing into my foxhole. I smiled at him. "Hey."

He motioned to the book that sat in my lap. "Is it helping?"

"Sort of. I'm only getting bits and pieces. I guess I wasn't very good at writing out all of the details of what was going on," I admitted.

Roe crossed his arms over his chest for warmth. "Like what?"

"Why was Winters being court martialed? What was the reasoning behind the NCOs turning in their stripes? It sounds like when I wrote this, I had an idea of what was going on, but when I read it now, I'm completely lost," I stated.

Roe nodded. "Sobel screwed up in the field during a training exercise, took it out on Winters. The NCOs didn't want to go into combat with him leading us. They feared he'd get all of us killed due to his inexperience."

"Funny how I don't remember any of that," I muttered.

Roe sniffled. "You weren't there for any of it. It's not as though you were training with us full time. He chose his moments to have you join us and he didn't want you taking photos of what was going on. I think it was because he didn't want anyone to see what we were going through."

I nodded. It made sense. I asked, "Anything else that I don't know about?"

He chuckled. "There's a lot that's happened. I'm sure there will be more that you'll have questions about and I'll be here if you need me."

I smiled warmly at him. "You're the best, Eugene. Thank you."

His eyes reflected an emotion that I had seen before, but couldn't place what it was. It was as though we had a history that I couldn't remember and it was killing him not telling me about it. It broke my heart thinking that I may never get the chance to remember what he so desperately wanted me to.

When he started to stand up, he stated, "I'm going to try and find 3rd Battalion. We need more supplies."

"Be careful, Eugene," I warned.

That afternoon, I stood at the back of the line, staring into the frozen forest that surrounded me. Being away from the foxhole was nice. It felt like all my nerves could relax. I felt like everything would be okay. It was peaceful.

It didn't even dawn on me to think that I wasn't safe where I stood, until I saw the young German kid approaching me. The look on his face must have mirrored mine. I couldn't believe that I was just standing there as he approached me with his rifle aimed at me.

I blinked at him as he stood in front of me, examining me from head to toe. He wasn't much taller than me, and I wondered how old he was.

When I finally spoke, it came out in a whisper, "Who are you?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. I suddenly realized that he might not understand me, but he replied, "Fritz." He had an accent, but he spoke English pretty well, it surprised me a little.

"How old are you?" I asked.

He looked completely confused by my questioning, but answered me anyways. "19."

When I looked down at his weapon pointed at me, he asked, "What is your name?"

I looked back up at him. "Jane."

"What are you doing out here alone, Jane?" he asked.

I sighed before I replied, "I don't know."

He lowered his rifle and asked again as if it were a trick, "What are you doing out here?"

I met his blue eyes and stated with a shrug, "I can't remember."

He glanced about the area, expecting men to jump out and capture him. When he saw no one hiding in the woods around us, he asked, "How far away from your line are you?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I don't remember even leaving the line."

The young man stood in front of me, gazing deep into my eyes. "How long have you been out here?"

I wanted to cry. I could feel the tears filling my eyes. "I don't know."

I collapsed into the snow, letting the tears fall from my cold face. I was lost. I was afraid. I was certain at this moment that I would either be killed in this spot or he would take me prisoner.

He surprised me when he sat down next to me in the snow. "It's okay, you know."

I glanced up at him, wiping my tears from my face. "What?"

"You're going to be okay."

I asked, "How can you be so sure of that?"

"Because I do," he said confidently.

"Why are you being so nice to me? Why haven't you shot me or taken me prisoner?" I asked.

"Do you want me to do either of those things?"

"No."

"Well, then, I'm not going to do that," he replied.

I asked, "Why aren't you on your line?"

He chuckled. "I got lost." The look on his face made me realize that he was lying. I wasn't sure if he was sent out as a scout or what his purpose was.

I stared into the frozen forest once more. I wondered what would become of me.

Fritz asked, "It's your memory, isn't it?"

I glanced up at him. "How did you-"

He replied, "I've seen it happen with others. Your brain just turns off and you're left wondering who you are, where you've been. I've lost friends because they couldn't remember things."

I asked, "Have any of them gotten better?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen them again. And the ones that I do see again, well, they don't remember me, so they don't talk to me."

"I'm sorry," I said honestly.

"Have you lost friends?" he asked, then added, "Sorry, you probably don't remember."

I thought for a moment before saying, "There's one person in particular that I wonder if there was something between us before I forgot everything."

"Why do you think that?" he asked.

"I don't know...he...he looks at me like he is hoping that I remember something important, but gets sad when I don't. I've been trying to remember what happened, who I am, who I was..." It was surprisingly easy to talk to him. I was shocked at how much I was enjoying his company, how much I was sharing with him, and how comfortable I was in that moment as if there was no war going on and we just happened to stumble upon one another like two neighbors out for a walk on a snowy afternoon.

Suddenly I asked, "Tell me the truth, why didn't you just shoot me?"

Fritz looked away from me and replied, "I'm tired of fighting in this damned war. I just want to go home."

"So you've left? Gone AWOL?" I asked.

He chuckled. "For someone who has no memory of things, you do remember certain phrases."

I looked away from him and nodded. "You're right. There are times that I know what I'm doing, what I'm talking about, but then...there are a lot of times that I haven't a clue."

He asked me in a more serious tone of voice, "If you had a chance to leave and go home, would you? Or would you stick around in this frozen wasteland of a forest and wait for your chance to die?"

I thought about his words. I thought about the words of those in my company. I didn't belong here.

"I can tell by your face that you agree with me," Fritz stated. He sighed. "I'm hoping to find my family, kiss their cheeks one last time before I leave."

"Leave where?" I asked. "Why not just stay home?"

"I'm a deserter, Jane. If they find me with my family, we're all dead. If I leave for good, then they will be searching for me, just me, and not my family."

I asked, "Is it worth it though? Not being able to be with your family?"

He shrugged. "It's better to know that I'm alive and they are too, then to be dead fighting a war that I didn't start and never see them again."

I couldn't argue with his views. I wondered if I would see my family again, if they would remember me if I were to die. I smirked as I thought, which didn't go unnoticed by Fritz who asked me about it.

I replied, "I was just thinking about my family. I don't think they'd recognize me anymore. I don't think I'm the same person as I was when I left."

"We never are, Jane. War changes you in ways that you can never expect," he stated.

"Talking from experience again?" I asked.

He nodded. "I've seen that happen too, with my own family and with me."

He studied me for a moment before adding, "Things happen for a reason, Jane. Maybe the person you were before isn't the person you're meant to be anymore."

I whispered, "I don't even remember who I was. How do you know that I wasn't supposed to be that person?"

He shrugged. "You're looking for answers in which there are none. Maybe by trying to figure out who you were is keeping you from it."

"You're very wise for 19," I pointed out.

He smiled. "War also does that to you."

After a moment of silence, I asked, "So what now?"

Fritz stood up from the snow bank we shared. "I better get moving before they track me down."

I looked at his extended hand. Placing my hand into his, he pulled me to my feet. He added, "Remember what I told you Jane. Don't run from this, especially if this is who you are meant to be."

He released my hand and started to walk away from me. I heard him say, "I hope we meet again one day, Jane."

I stood there, watching him disappear into the frozen forest. Within moments, he was gone. I closed my eyes and prayed that I would never forget his words of wisdom, but more importantly, I hoped to never forget him.

When I finally found my line again, some of the men were glaring at me. I tried to ignore the glances and jumped into my foxhole. I pulled out my leather bound journal and brushed my frozen fingers over the cover. Fritz's words stuck with me. What if my search for who I was, was preventing me from knowing? I released a heavy sigh and placed the book back into my bag. I wanted to see if Fritz was right.

The moment the book was safely back in the bag, I heard someone slide in the foxhole next to me. I glanced up to meet the face of a concerned man.

"Heya Jane," he said as he leaned back and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket. When he saw confusion in my eyes, he added, "It's Luz. Remember?"

I faked a smile. "Of course. How're you doing, Luz?"

He finished lighting his cigarette and took a drag from it. "Dreamin' of Africa. How are you holding up?"

"Fine."

"You rememberin' much?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I'm taking a break from it."

"Why's that?" he questioned.

"I thought that perhaps trying to hard to remember was keeping me from remembering."

He narrowed his eyes at me, clearly not understanding what I was saying. "Sure..."

I asked, "What do you remember about me?"

"What? Before?" he asked. I nodded and he stated, "You were confident. Strong. You became fast friends with Doc Roe. I don't know, Jane, you were just...different back then."

I nodded slowly, taking in his words. Back then, I was everything I wasn't now. I didn't feel strong or confident. As for my relationship with Roe, I worried that had disappeared a bit too since the accident. Suddenly, I asked, "What happened to me?"

Luz pulled the cigarette from his mouth, releasing the smoke from behind his lips. "You went to help someone during one of the barrages, and a shell landed a few feet from you...sent you flyin' through the air. Everyone was afraid you'd been killed, but like I said, you're strong."

I scoffed. "I don't feel strong."

"You're just a little lost. You'll remember eventually," he stated with a smile. I knew he was trying to convince me, but it was hard to believe it was the truth.

Lost. That's what Luz called it. I had a hard time believing that I was just lost, like in the forest. A part of me began to wonder if perhaps he was telling the truth. What if I was just simply lost and searching for my way back. When I worded it that way, it made sense, but if I thought about it for any extended periods of time, it began to confuse me. When I looked at the men around me, the ones that were struggling to keep it together, the ones that were wounded and heading home, and the ones that had mentally snapped, I saw men who seemed lost as well. Perhaps we were all lost in the woods, searching for home or something comforting.

My father used to tell me that war changes a person. Even Fritz, whom I had met by chance that day in the frozen forest had said something similar. I began to wonder if I'd never find myself again, that this was the person that I was meant to be for the rest of my life. What if I never discovered that part of me, that part of my past that Roe secretly wanted me to remember? What if this was all that would be left of me? Would that be enough?

The ground beneath me shook violently causing me to jerk awake. Shouts echoed distantly from across the lines. I couldn't make out any distinct voices or orders as each explosion would drown them out. I peered out from my foxhole, scanning the area. Everyone was still in cover. I didn't see one soul brave enough to venture out during this early morning attack. As soon as it had started, it stopped.

Once the smoke from the barrage had started to settle, there were faint outlines of people moving about. Distant shouts to stay in cover were finally making their way over to us.

The sounds of someone crawling behind me grabbed my attention. I quickly turned to see who was approaching me. It was Lipton. Once he reached my cover, he slid into it head first.

I helped him sit up and asked, "How bad?"

"We've a few wounded, but nothing too serious," he replied.

I nodded aimlessly. "That's good."

"I was wondering if you'd like a break. Take the wounded back to the aide station in Bastogne?" he asked, studying my face.

I sniffled. "What about here?"

"We've still got Doc Roe. We'll be fine. Seems like you might need a break," he replied.

I thought about it. Was leaving the line for any amount of time a good idea? I wasn't convinced.

Lipton offered a kind smile. "I think it might be best for you to try and get some rest, even if it is just for an hour or two...just to let your nerves rest."

I sighed. "You're not going to take no for an answer are you?"

He chuckled slightly. "Not really. Everyone thinks it might help you."

I nodded slowly. "Well, I guess I better get going then."

"You'll be okay, Jane. If we need you sooner than your return, we'll send for you," he offered. Once he finished his statement, he started to crawl out of the foxhole to head towards the rest of the line to check on the men.


	3. Same Disease

**A/N: Thank you Queenie, Wildflower Field, lipamo, RJ North, and Helianza for your reviews.**

 **Helianza, you are correct. This starts in Bastogne. Part of the reason that I chose to start this story in the frozen forest is because a lot of people seem to dread getting to this part of the story simply because it seems to drag on forever. I hoped to try and make it a little more bearable by starting here and moving on so it's not a consistent bore, I guess you could say? Somehow writing that made no sense to me...but...rambling on isn't helping my cause. =) Also, I know that the German kid seems random, but what most people who know my work will tell you, nothing ever happens without a reason. Even the simplest things are known to be a factor somewhere down the line.**

 **I'm glad that everyone is enjoying this story. I hope to spend some time this weekend writing more for this story. It's kind of funny, I've already been asked to write stories of other fandoms, such as Supernatural and Walking Dead. If I were to do that, is anyone here fans?**

 **Thank you again for reading and following! I hope this chapter is enough to keep you coming back for more!**

 **Reviews make for happier days! Enjoy!**

* * *

The drive to Bastogne was relatively quick, which surprised me. Maybe it was just because I was so caught up thinking about things and wasn't paying much attention.

When the Jeep stopped, the driver got out and started to help the wounded man in the back. I climbed out and scanned the area.

Standing before us was the town's church. It was the hub of this place and clearly the main building for the aide station. Outside of the church were piles of boots, helmets, guns as well as whatever other items the dead had on them when they came here. I couldn't help but stare at the piles of gear. It hadn't really occurred to me until this precise moment that we had lost a lot of men.

After snapping out of my daze, I watched as the medic took the wounded man inside the massive church that stood before me. I reluctantly followed him, unsure of what to do in this place. It wasn't a vacation and I wasn't about to just stand about relaxing when there was clearly work to be done.

When I crossed the threshold of the church, I stopped at the landing of the stairs. Gazing down into the cathedral, I saw just how many men were wounded. The local doctors and volunteers who were acting as nurses were busy trying to keep order as more and more wounded flooded into the church.

I stood above the main floor taking it all in. Most of the men were most likely shell shocked as I couldn't see any signs of wounds, but there were several who looked like they had been through the ringer.

A small voice squeaked behind me. "Excuse me."

I turned to see who was addressing me. Standing before me was a short black woman. She had a hint of a French accent as she spoke to me. I blinked at her, unsure of what to say.

"Are you hurt?" she asked calmly.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not."

She narrowed her eyes so quickly it was as if she never did it, but I figured that she didn't believe my words. I figured she would argue with me, but instead, she nodded and bustled down the stairs to help with the wounded.

I went back to taking in the wounded men. I noticed that most of them had a glass of booze in their hands. I began to wonder what kind of hospital this place was.

The medic who had driven me here climbed the stairs and stopped next to me. He sighed as he looked over the mass of wounded. "Good luck here."

I turned to him. "Yeah. Good luck to you."

Before he left, he added, "If you hear planes overhead, get outside."

I raised an eyebrow at him as he walked out of the church. I thought it was an odd comment to make, but as soon as he was out the door, I forgot the words he spoke to me.

Another voice suddenly caught my attention beside me, "Are you wounded?"

I turned and was face to face with one of the doctors. I shook my head. "I'm not. Drew the short straw to come here."

I could see my words processing in his mind before a smile broke across his face. He seemed genuinely happy. "This is great news. We need extra hands."

I suddenly realized what he thought I meant. Before I could protest, he pulled me into another room and stated, "We need another hand in here."

As soon as I was out of his grip, I turned to see a pretty face staring back at me as she hunched over a severely wounded man. Blood was already pooling on the floor by her feet.

I joined her at the table and asked, "Where do you need me?"

Her hand was wrist deep in the man's stomach. She pulled her hand out and released a defeated sigh. "There is nothing more to be done for him."

I looked down at the man on the table. He looked peaceful, except for the blood smears on his face. I glanced back up to the stressed French girl and whispered, "I'm sorry."

She shrugged as she began wiping her hands on a towel. "It happens. It shouldn't happen, but it does, and more frequently these days, I'm afraid."

"What can we do?" I asked.

She met my mismatched eyes with her blue ones. "Whatever we can."

The next few days had gone by in a tedious blur. Every day seemed to become routine and with each man that died from his wounds, the less I seemed to care about how precious life was. Renee continued to hold hope that this war would end and the senseless killings would stop. She knew that I didn't share her views on the matter, but how could I? We were both experiencing this war from different angles, but I got to see it from both sides by being here. I knew that if I had only experienced it from her perspective, I would most likely have the same hope as she did.

It was nice to have some female company as I worked alongside Renee and Anna, but I continued to wonder how the men were faring on the lines. They hadn't sent for me, and I was becoming increasingly busy with the wounded to really complain or worry that they had forgotten about me. If they had forgotten about me, this wasn't the worst place to be left behind. I also had moments where I wondered if Dike had gotten his way after all, ordering the men to leave me. Either way, I had a job to do.

We did have days where we could take breaks outside, just to get away from the overwhelming stench of death and blood. When the three of us sat outside amongst the rubble, we talked. We grew to know each other like family. When it was my turn to share things, I struggled. It was at that moment that they realized why I was brought to the aide station.

On one particular day, it was just Renee and me outside. Renee stated, "You know, Anna has helped many soldiers remember what happened to them when they were on the line."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She stated, "Some men who come here don't remember why they are here. Anna works with them and somehow manages to pull the past from their minds, bringing back all sorts of memories they had forgotten."

"How does she do that?" I asked.

Renee shrugged. "I'm not sure. I wonder if she would be willing to help you with your memory. Perhaps it would allow you to remember the things you want to."

"What if I don't want to remember things? What if I don't like the person I was?" I asked. It was the same question that I had asked myself since I tried to read my journal to try and recall things. It frightened me to think that I wasn't a good person, or perhaps I was but had changed so much since the accident.

Renee gave me a sympathetic glance. "We all change, Jane. If you discover you don't like who you were, you can change into the person you want to be."

I sat there taking in her words. It sounded simple enough, and it wasn't the first time I had heard something similar. Even Fritz, wherever he was now, had said the same thing. I thought that perhaps I should speak with Anna about what she does with people's memories and see what she could do for me.

As we sat there on our break from helping the wounded men inside, a truckload of men drove up. We instinctively stood up from our spots as we knew what the truck meant. It was carrying more wounded. We would see several trucks a day as each day continued to pass by, and with each truck we would see, the more numb to death I was becoming.

Renee immediately started shouting orders to the men as they brought the wounded into the church. One man approached me after he hopped out of the passenger seat of the truck. "Are you Jane?"

I looked him over. I didn't see any wounds and I certainly didn't recognize him, but I nodded.

He stated, "Captain Winters wanted me to deliver this to you. He said that he hopes this is what you wanted."

I glanced down at the man's extended hand. He was holding a Kodak 35. I smiled wide at the camera and took it from him. I chuckled softly before thanking the man. I didn't think that Winters had remembered my request, and if he had remembered, I certainly wasn't expecting him to follow through. It was a kind reminder of simple gestures going a long way for those you care about.

"Jane!" a familiar voice shouted to me from within the church.

I inhaled deeply, reminding myself that I had a job to do and the camera would have to wait.

That night, I sat outside the church with my camera. I carefully placed a roll of film inside and began to wind it up for use. For some reason, I felt confident holding the camera. It felt like a piece of me had returned. It was an odd sensation to say the least.

"I see you've gotten your replacement camera," a familiar voice softly spoke behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Anna standing there and nodded. "Yeah. My CO actually got one sent in for me."

Anna approached and sat down beside me. "Why haven't you started taking pictures?"

I stared at the green camera that I cradled in my palms. "I don't know. I feel like maybe this isn't something anyone should see."

"Or maybe this is exactly what they need to see," she replied.

The silence was deafening after she said those words. She finally broke that silence by saying, "Renee told me about your memory problems."

I glanced over at her and waited for her to continue.

"If you want me to, I can try and help you remember what you've forgotten," she offered kindly.

I swallowed and asked nervously, "What do you think caused me to forget?"

She sighed. "A lot of men who come here have forgotten why they are here, why they are fighting. A doctor a few years ago called it, 'Post-Traumatic Amnesia'. Sometimes it's temporary and they remember everything once they are calm, but some never fully remember who they are and they go home a different person. Those men stop talking to the people they once considered friends, their families no longer recognize them, and they struggle to return to their normal lives."

"Will that happen to me?" I asked. I was still struggling with the idea of becoming someone I wouldn't like. There was also a part of me who was curious about everything I had forgotten. My thoughts suddenly went to Eugene. It was obvious that he wanted me to remember something, but was afraid to tell me. I often conjured up a million different scenarios in which he wanted me to remember, but I would never know what it was unless I could remember. And here I was, sitting with the one person who held the key to unlocking those memories and I was hesitating.

"You don't have to decide now, if you don't want to. You can let me know when you're ready," Anna stated with a comforting smile.

I nodded in response. I was still unsure of what to do.

Anna walked away from me to leave me to my thoughts, which I was very grateful for.

Sitting alone in the dark, cradling my camera, I got to thinking about many things. I realized that if I was feeling this way just holding my camera, I wondered what would come from actually using it.

I lifted the camera to my eye and peered through the viewfinder. I focused the lens onto the shattered fountain that sat a few yards away from me. It no longer held the same beauty as I am sure it once held when it was built, but now, it held a different kind of beauty. Instead of it being shiny and new, it was broken but strong. Through the bombings and gunfire, it had endured. Much like me, I thought.

I pushed the button and heard the shutter click.

The next morning came too early. I was startled awake by the sounds of trucks pulling up to the makeshift hospital, horns honking, and men shouting. I blinked a few times, allowing my eyes to adjust to the morning light.

"Jane! Come quick! We need your help!" Anna shouted at me from across the room.

I stood up and made my way to the door of the cathedral. When I glanced outside, I saw three trucks full of wounded men. My mouth fell open. I began to worry about the men I left behind on the lines. I started towards the trucks to help carry some of the men inside. When my eyes landed on a familiar frame, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Roe looked at me briefly. It was such a quick glance in my direction, but it was enough to tell me that he was focused and that was exactly what I needed to be in this moment.

I grabbed a man's arm and threw it over my shoulder as I helped him into the church. I got him situated onto a cot and turned to help the next one but I was stopped.

"Miss?" the man asked, grabbing my wrist.

I turned to him, glancing at his hold on my arm before meeting his gaze. I waited for him to continue.

"Where am I?" he asked.

I quickly looked over him. I didn't see any visible wounds. The fact that he was also asking me where he was felt strange to me. I replied, "You're in Bastogne."

"Where's that?" he asked.

I furrowed my brow at him. "What company do you serve with?"

"Company?" he questioned. He looked completely confused with my inquiry.

"Yes, your company...Who's your commander?" I asked, hoping for an answer this time.

"Miss, I don't have any idea what you're talking about. I don't know where I am...or why there's all these people here...What's happened?" he asked.

It suddenly dawned on me what he was going through. This is what Anna was telling me before. This man had this amnesia thing and had completely forgotten his role in this war. I also remembered Renee telling me that Anna was the one who had helped men in the past overcome this type of amnesia. Inwardly, I had to laugh. God had a sense of humor, twisted as it may be, it was humorous to me to be faced with a situation much like this man, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to remember. Maybe by watching how Anna would work with this man, it would help me determine if this was the path that I wanted to take.

"Miss?" the man spoke again. When I snapped out of my thoughts and looked back at him, he questioned me with his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I know someone who can help you remember. Wait here," I stated as I began to walk away.

Once I climbed the steps to the main level and rounded the corner, I saw Renee and Roe working together to try and save a man who had been shot in the stomach. Blood was pooling on the floor beneath the table as it dripped off the table. I could hear Roe swearing as he struggled with the man. Anna was running back and forth between rooms, trying to help them as best as she could.

When Renee stepped back and looked at Roe, I could see it in her face that it was too late for that man laying on the table. Roe had finally straightened and stepped back, sighing heavily. I heard him release an angry curse just before he turned on his heel, storming out of the room, and walking right past me without even a second glance.

I turned to watch him as he disappeared further into the church before I turned my attention back to Renee. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her shoulders before starting the task of cleaning up the room in preparation of the next man.

I walked up to her and our eyes met. I offered a sad smile before I began to help her clean up the room.

I glanced down at the dead man's face. I didn't know him, or at least I didn't think that I knew him. He looked quite battered and exhausted. I knew that now he was finally able to get the rest he so deserved.

That afternoon, we had finally finished with the wounded that were brought to us in the early morning hours. Anna and I sat down on the steps of the church, finally thankful for a moment's rest.

I released a heavy sigh and hung my head between my knees.

"I spoke with that soldier you pointed out to me," Anna said. "I think he's agreed to having my help."

I lifted my head. "That's good. I hope you can help."

"I know that I can. If you want, you can help me," she offered.

I smirked as I looked over at her. "How can I help you?"

"By watching. Maybe it will help you too," she pointed out.

I nodded. "I thought about that. Maybe it would be good that I do help you."

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

Before I could answer, my eyes landed on Renee and Roe, sitting off in the rubble filled square. The two of them were talking and it looked quite intimate. She offered him chocolate and I could see it in their eyes that something was forming between them. Maybe it had already formed while I was trying to figure out whether or not I wanted to remember my past.

Anna glanced over to see what had captured my attention before returning hers to me. "You all right?"

"They seem happy," I pointed out.

Anna nodded. "They're friends."

"That's not the look friends give each other," I stated.

I sighed in defeat and it didn't go unnoticed by Anna. "What are you thinking?"

I replied, "I'm not sure I should remember now."

"Why do you say that?" she questioned.

"Because..." I wasn't sure I wanted to finish my sentence because if I said it, maybe it would be true.

But Anna wouldn't let me off the hook that easily. "Because why?"

"If they like one another, why should I interfere with that? What if by remembering my past, who I was, whatever Roe wants me to remember...what if all of that breaks up whatever happiness those two are finding with one another?"

Anna was about to say something, but I added, "They deserve happiness. They deserve love. I can't step in between them...Maybe not remembering is for the best. Maybe this is what is supposed to happen so that they'd meet and have a chance at living life with one another."

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Jane. You sound as if they are already planning a marriage," Anna stated.

"Maybe they should be. Face it, we don't know how long this war is going to last or when we will die. If they are starting to form feelings for one another, I'm not going to ruin that for them."

"So, you'll sacrifice your own happiness and quite possibly a relationship you may have had with Roe because you think there's something between him and your friend?" Anna asked.

I nodded. "Yes. It wouldn't be fair to Renee if she has legitimate feelings for him if I were to remember whatever it is that Roe and I had. Whatever it was that we had, I can't remember. He knows that. Maybe he's tired of waiting for me to decide what to do, or tired of waiting for me to remember and he's moved on. I can't hold that against him. So, yeah. I'm not stepping in the way of that."

"Jane..."

"I'm done talking about it," I added as I stood up and walked inside, never looking back on my friend and the man that I thought loved me.

As the days continued to pass by, Anna sat with the man who couldn't remember where he was. She never mentioned the war or where he was, but instead, she asked simple questions like what he did that day or what he had for dinner, even when she already knew the answers to those questions.

Eventually, she began asking him about his home. More times than not, he wouldn't remember anything, but once in a while, a certain phrase or word would trigger a memory for him and he'd begin talking about something. One instance, she mentioned how she would give anything to have one of her mother's biscuits. The moment she explained to him that they were what we considered cookies, a wide smile broke out on his face and he began raving about his grandmother's cookies. As he continued to gush on about them, describing them in perfect detail as if he had a plate in front of him, Anna would ask him about his grandmother, and soon enough, he was telling stories of the woman and her house.

It seemed almost random to me, but he seemed happy talking about his grandmother. The more he spoke as each day passed, the more he became aware of his surroundings, his position in this war, and what he was doing here. He began to remember everything, just because she spoke about cookies.

The day that he fully remembered who he was and why he was here, he thanked Anna and promised that if he were to make it home after this war was over, he'd look her up and send her a plate of cookies. When he left the makeshift hospital, he had a smile on his face. Anna had not only given him his memory back, but she had given him a taste of home to hold onto and that was something everyone had hoped for these days.

I was impressed at the simplicity of her methods. She didn't probe or ask questions in hopes that it would trigger something, but only had normal conversations with him, almost as if he were a child. The more he remembered, the harder the conversations became. I worried that I might have a difficult time with her methods. I was afraid that there might be things that I didn't want to remember or talk about. I wasn't completely sure, but it was a hunch.

Anna approached me once the man had gotten on the truck back to his line. She smiled and said, "He'll be fine. He's got his family on his mind and a fighting spirit to make it home."

"I hope you're right," I replied. I wasn't sure he would because he was so focused on his family instead of the war.

"Did your mother make cookies?" she asked me with a hint of a smile.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "I know what you're doing. It's not going to work."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, feigning innocence.

I smirked. "In that case, no. My mother never baked cookies."

"Really?" Anna asked.

I nodded. "Too expensive. Couldn't afford the ingredients."

"Is that why you joined the war effort?" she questioned.

I glared at her. "What are you doing?"

"Asking you a question about your life."

"You're probing. You're trying to get me to remember what I can't. Nice try," I pointed out.

She asked, "Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because I'm not getting in the way of Renee and Roe."

"Just because you remember doesn't mean that you have to get in their way, should they chose to make something happen," Anna pointed out.

I nodded. "You're right. But I think some things should remain locked away. The last thing I need is for you to dig up something and that's all I can think about and then I'm at risk of never making it back home alive."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Cookies," I said as I walked away from her. I wondered if she would understand what I was trying to say. I didn't want the last thing I thought about to be damned cookies.

The next morning, Anna handed me a cup of coffee. It was bitter as usual, but it was warm and much needed as the morning was colder than it had normally been.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed as I took the cup from her and held it in my frozen hands.

Anna sipped from her cup as she pulled out a dried flower from her coat pocket.  
"What's that?" I asked as I blew into my cup.

"The last flower of the season," she replied as she showed me the beautiful purple wildflower in her hand. She inhaled the scent deeply before extending it to me. "Smells just as fresh as the day it bloomed."

I leaned forward and inhaled deep. I chuckled. "Smells like my Aunt Nancy's house."

When Anna didn't say anything, I added, "My Uncle Charles used to bring her flowers every day, even though he couldn't afford it. Her house was always filled with flowers, much like this one."

Images of my Aunt and Uncle flooded my mind. I cleared my throat, shaking the sudden memory of them. I looked at a smiling Anna and asked, "Mind if I take your picture with the flower?"

Anna smiled. "It's nice to see you using your camera again."

I nodded as I pulled it out of my bag. "Figured it might help just to get back into the swing of things again."

I looked through the viewfinder and adjusted the settings before taking the final shot. I lowered the camera and thanked her.

Anna replied, "I better get to work in there. See you in a little while."

I nodded as she walked into the cathedral. I stood up and watched as a Jeep pulled up and Roe jumped out. He waved at me before walking to the back of the Jeep to help a wounded man out.

I approached them. "What happened?"

Roe replied, "Another shelling."

"Another?" I asked.

Roe nodded. "Been happening more and more lately. I think the Krauts are getting antsy."

"How bad?" I asked. I felt stupid for asking such a question. I mean, we were in the middle of the war, surrounded by the enemy, and I'm asking how bad it is.

Roe replied, "It's getting worse each day. We've lost a lot of good men."

I swallowed. "Who?"

Roe stated, "I gotta get him inside. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

I motioned him to go. "Sorry. Sure thing. Later."

I watched him walk away from me and towards Renee who was waiting for him at the steps. She smiled at him before helping him with the wounded man. Roe looked over at her as they climbed the steps into the church, rounding the corner out of my view.

For some reason, my heart felt like it broke a little bit.

Later never came that day. Roe had helped Renee with the heavy onslaught of wounded that poured in that morning. When they finally had a chance to take a breath and rest a bit, they did it in the same spot in the courtyard. They talked for a while with each other.

It was at this moment that I felt as though Roe had moved on. I had been replaced with a woman who knew who she was. Renee was a strong woman with so much love and respect for those she met. She was also a beautiful woman and I felt that I couldn't compete with her in any way.

I sat on the steps, holding myself to keep warm as I watched them from a distance.

I could hear the steps behind me and eventually the warmth of Anna as she sat next to me on the frigid steps. I never looked over at her.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

I shrugged. "As best as I can be, I suppose."

Anna followed my gaze across the courtyard and saw Renee and Roe sitting together. She asked, "Has he spoken to you yet?"

I shook my head. "No. He's been a little busy."

"Maybe you should go speak with him," she suggested.

I shook my head again. "No. He told me that he'd talk to me later."

"When's later?" she questioned.

I shrugged. "Whenever he makes time for me."

Anna looked at me. "You should talk to him."

I smirked. "I think I'm done."

"Done with what?" she asked.

I met her questioning brown eyes. "Time for me to move on."

"So, you're not going to try to remember anymore?" she asked.

I stood up. "There's no point. From what I remember reading in my journal before forgetting everything about my life and who I was, my family hates me for leaving and coming here. Now that Roe has moved on with his life, I guess you could say that I've lost everything important enough to remember...maybe this is for the best."

Anna gazed up at me. "I don't think you've lost everything important to you."

I sighed. "Perhaps you're right, but as of this moment, I'm done. I'm throwing in the towel. I'm going to send a message to the CO of Easy and see about returning to the line."

"Why?" Anna asked, suddenly standing up. "We need you here."  
"To do what? Use more of your supplies? Be in the way as you're trying to save someone's life? Take pictures?" I asked.

"It's important to take pictures-"

I cut her off. "Important? For whom? They don't want pictures of the wounded. They want the battles. That's what sells. That's what I get paid for. Unless those wounded men are dead or dying on the front lines, they don't want the damn photos!"

I stormed past Anna and headed into the cathedral.


	4. Mighty Storm

**A/N: Thank you Queenie and Wildflower Field for your reviews and feedback on future fics. I'm glad you're enjoying the story still and I hope you keep coming back for more.**

 **One of the reasons I am updating so soon, is not just because I have a small moment to do so (thank you, child of mine), but because I was PMed a link to a contest for fanfics and I would love it if you guys would head over there and vote for Emmeline's Story. That's the one that I chose to submit. www{dot}inkitt{dot}com{slash}stories{slash}27778 .I appreciate your love and support (and votes, of course!)**

 **Here's the next chapter! Reviews make for happier days!**

* * *

That night, I curled up onto my cot and tried to sleep. My mind raced with all sorts of thoughts, some about my family, some about Roe and Renee, but most of them were about what I would do from this moment on.

It finally occurred to me just how jealous I had become over Roe's attentions being on Renee. I envied her. I wanted to be her. I realized that whatever Roe and I had, it must have been serious, but on the flip side, I felt like it couldn't have been that serious if he was already moving forward with someone else.

I liked Renee. She was a sweetheart, beautiful, and calming to those around her. There was no reason for anyone to not like her. She was the nicest person I had ever met. She never spoke ill of anyone. It was hard to be mad at her for any reason. But I found myself really trying to be mad at her. It was stupid of me considering that I was the reason I was mad at her to begin with. Had I just accepted the offers to restore my memory instead of fighting it this whole time, maybe it would have been me that Roe spent his times in the ruined town square instead.

I heard soft footsteps approaching me and glanced over my shoulder to see who it was. It was Renee.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she started.

I rolled over to give her my full attention. "No. It's fine. What's wrong?"

"I need some help. Anna needs some rest but I need another pair of hands," she stated.

I nodded, rolling out of the cot. "Sure thing."

I followed her through the maze of cots that held wounded men as we climbed the stairs to the main floor. I asked, "What's going on?"

"We've received word that more wounded are on their way in. I don't know how bad, but I wanted to be prepared," she said.

Guilt washed over me again. I continued feeling bad for feeling the way that I did with her. It was killing me that I felt this way towards her. I felt like I needed to apologize to her.

I didn't get a chance to say much more because the moment we reached the door to the church, the truck pulled up and they started bringing the men into the building.

Renee asked, "Do you think you can handle some of the lesser ones on your own?"

I nodded. "Sure. I'll do my best."

"Only the easy ones. Wrap them up, send them downstairs. Just trust your instincts," she told me.

She began sorting through the wounded and I had a few already starting to line up in my area.

I did what she told me to do and began just wrapping up their cuts and gashes. Once in a while, I had to dig out something from their wounds, but for the most part, she kept true to her words by only sending me the really easy ones.

One of those men walked in and hopped up onto the table without being told to. I asked like many times before, "Where are you hurt?"

The man sneered at me. "I don't want you."

I glanced up at the man, only to be met with a glaring gaze. Hate was written all over his face. I blinked at him. "Sorry?"

"I remember you plain as day. I don't want you," he repeated.

I asked, "Do we know each other?"

"Yeah. You're the bitch that got me demoted."

I stared back at him, unsure of what to say. Do I tell him that I didn't know who he was? I'm sure that it wouldn't make a difference to him.

"What's the matter? You've got nothing to say?" he spat the question out.

I responded carefully, "I'm sorry, but I don't remember you-"

"That's funny. I seem to recall you pretty damn well. I have to say though, I'm amazed you've survived this long," he taunted.

I was about to reply, but Renee stepped up beside me. "What's going on here?"

"I refuse to be treated by this bitch-"

Renee interrupted him, "If you say that word one more time, you'll have no one treat you, do you understand?"

He glared at me, but turned back to Renee. "Yes ma'am. I still would like a different nurse."

Renee looked at me with concern, but motioned the man to follow her out. I began to wonder what I did to upset that man or even get him demoted. There were so many questions that I didn't have the answers to, but I suddenly realized that I must have been a terrible person for people to hate me so. Maybe it was in everyone's best interest, including mine, never to know that person - to keep that part of myself dead and forgotten.

I had blocked out what happened with that soldier and got so into what I was doing, I stopped looking at the men who came in. They just became another soldier who needed stitched up and sent downstairs for recovery. They were no longer a person to me, but one in a million faces who needed help. I didn't know their names, and I started to become numb to the fact that these were people.

The next one who I began cleaning up was a man who had been stabbed in the leg with a bayonet. It missed everything vital from what I could tell, but there was still a chunk of the knife sitting inside the wound. I knew that I would have to fish it out and pray that I wouldn't kill the man. I set to work, praying the whole time.

"You're deep in thought," a familiar voice stated.

I didn't look up from cleaning out his bayoneted leg. "Just trying to fix you up."

"Have any luck?" the voice asked.

I asked mindlessly, "How is it that you are not in worse shape than you should be?"

"I was wearing several layers of clothing...plus I was able to counter," the voice stated.

"Lucky you," I whispered as I began fishing out the tip of the bayonet that was still lodged in his right thigh.

"Speaking of luck, have you had any?" he questioned.

"Any what?" I asked. I wasn't really listening to him, and I felt bad about it.

"Luck," he repeated.

"Luck about what?' I asked, completely confused by his random conversations.

He chuckled. "Luck remembering who you are."

I looked up and met the familiar smiling blue eyes of Fritz. My mouth fell open. I blinked at him, trying to figure out if I was seeing him or not. "What are you doing here?"

"I was picked up by your troops," he stated.

"Do they know you're the enemy?" I whispered.

He nodded. "They know. They also know that I went AWOL to get away from it all."

"So...are you a prisoner now?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Who knows. I think they are still trying to figure out what to do with me. Guess we'll find out what happens if you fix me up or if I bleed to death."

"No pressure," I muttered.

I looked up to see that Renee was finished with her last wounded and had glanced my way. When our eyes locked, she came over, almost knowing that I needed her help.

She looked at Fritz and said, "We'll need to stitch him up. Keep his tourniquet on tight above the wound. Fish out the piece and we'll close him up. I'll grab the stuff."

I nodded as she walked away to grab the supplies and I adjusted his tourniquet. I tightened it as best as I could, but apparently I tightened it so well, because Fritz groaned.

"Are you taking my leg?" he asked, tongue in cheek.

I sighed. "Sorry."

He smiled. "I was kidding."

I released my breath. "Sorry. It's just...been a long day."

He nodded. "I know. Who's your friend, by the way?"

"Who? Renee?" I asked, pointing in the direction she had walked.

"Yeah. She's cute," he admitted.

I gritted my teeth before replying, "Yeah. She is."

"You seem upset by that," he pointed out.

I shrugged. "Not upset. Just seems to be the common thought around here, that's all."

Renee had returned and we immediately set to work on Fritz.

That night, once Fritz had been fixed up and given a cot, Renee and I sat outside on the steps with a cup of coffee.

She asked, "Was that man a friend of yours?"

I looked at her. "Who? Fritz? Yeah, I guess."

"Where'd you meet him?"

"Behind enemy lines," I replied.

"Doesn't seem like anyone knows that he's German," she stated.

I furrowed my brow at her. "Except you, it would seem."

She smiled. "I know a German man when I see one."

We shared a laugh over that statement.

"I guess you would," I said.

"What do you think your people will do with him?" she asked.

I shook my head. "I haven't the faintest idea."

"What do you want to see happen to him?" she questioned.

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter what I want."

"You like him, don't you?" she said with a smile.

I smirked. "I don't know him."

"But there's something there," she said. "Just like you and Eugene."

When she said Roe's first name, my heart ached. Something inside me felt sad when she said it, like it wasn't meant to be spoken. I didn't call him by his first name. Maybe I did when I was me before forgetting everything, but I certainly didn't call him that now.

"What's the story with you and Eugene?" she asked.

"No story," I replied. I was surprised at how cold my tone of voice had gotten. I felt ashamed by how jealous and angry I got whenever Renee and Roe were in the same conversation.

"He talks about you, sometimes," she admitted. "He speaks of you as though you have a history."

"What does he say?" I asked.

"Why don't you want to remember?" she countered. "What are you afraid of?"

It was the same question with practically everyone that I met. I didn't know the answer anymore.

"You like him, don't you?" I asked her.

She smiled. "Yes. I do."

I stared at the ground. "I thought so. He likes you too, from what I can tell."

"Perhaps. But I don't think he likes me as much as he does you. You have his heart."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. He spends most of his time with you. If you two are starting to feel something, you should go for it. Who knows how long this war will last, and you need to find whatever happiness you can while you have it within arms reach," I said.

"Are you giving me permission to see Eugene?" she asked, clearly amused.

I looked at her. "I didn't mean for it to come across like that...I just meant that ... If you like each other, don't think about how it will impact me, okay? Just focus on you."

She raised an amused eyebrow at me. "We're just friends, you know?"

"Still. If you decide it's more-"

She interrupted me. "Talk with Anna. Get your memory back. From what he says of you, you were a very interesting person."

"I was an interesting person? What are you trying to imply, Renee? I'm not interesting now?" I laughed.

She chuckled. "Oh, yes. Quite a bore."

We laughed together on the steps as we finished our coffee.

As we stood up to head back inside, I asked, "Aren't you going to ask me what happened today with that one soldier?"

"Who? The mean one who kept calling you names?" she asked. When I nodded, she shook her head. "No. The way I see it, he's a hateful person. You're not a bitch."

"But I might have been. Is finding out who I was really worth losing who I am now?" I asked.

She looked at me and sighed. "Just because you find out who you were doesn't mean the person you are now disappears forever. You're not that person anymore. Anyone with half a brain would be able to see that. He didn't want to because he's still bitter about whatever happened back then."

I took in her words, carefully considering what she was telling me to do. I suddenly realized that Renee was a genuine person, and she would become a good friend of mine.

Days continued to go by. Days had turned into weeks and weeks into months. Every day, I would sit with Renee and Anna. We would talk and get to know one another. I learned things about their lives before the war and for some reason, hearing their stories made me more curious about mine, and I found myself reading from my journal when I was alone.

When the girls were busy being nurses, I was busy taking pictures or helping Fritz walk so he wouldn't get worse just sitting in the basement.

Fritz and I became just as close as I had gotten with the girls. He told me more about his family, how far he had gotten through the frozen forest after he left me that one day before getting caught by soldiers. He even explained how he got stabbed in the leg.

Fritz asked, "So, how much have you read out of that book of yours?"

I looked down at the leather bound journal in my right hand. "Pretty far, actually. I'm almost finished with it."

"Learn anything about yourself?" he asked.

"Apparently, I didn't take crap from anyone...unlike now," I said with a chuckle.

"Who's giving you crap?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Not now, but a few months ago, I had a harder time understanding what was going on."

"And now?"

"Now? I don't know...I'm...happy," I replied.

"Happy?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I smirked. "Not 'happy' happy. Just...I think I'm fine with how things are now. I don't need to figure out who I was."

He nodded. "Good for you."

We walked a few steps in silence before he asked, "What will you do now?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He said, "Well, if you're no longer curious about who you were and trying to figure out what people want you to remember, what are you going to do now? Will you try to go home?"

I smirked as I thought about it. "I don't think I'd be welcome back home, according to the book."

"What do you mean?" he questioned.

I inhaled deeply before saying, "From what I've read, my family was pretty angry with my decision to come here...all for a job. I'm thinking they were pretty much done with me."

"Family will always be there, no matter what you do, or think you deserve," he said with confidence.

"What makes you so sure?" I asked.

"My family wasn't happy with my decision to join the fray, but I think they'll be happy to see me return and be done with it," he stated.

I wasn't convinced and I think he saw it on my face.

We walked in silence again. Fritz finally sat down on the edge of the fountain and said, "Sorry. I needed to rest."

I nodded. "It's okay."

As he sat there, I suddenly had the urge to take his picture. I put the journal on the fountain ledge next to him and raised my camera to my face, aiming it at him. He smiled at me as I took his picture.

"Should I look morose?" he asked with a smirk.

I took his picture and looked up at him with my own eyes. "You should just be you."

"Miss Finley?" a voice behind me spoke. I turned to see who had spoken. "This is for you."

The man handed me a couple of letters, saluted, and walked away. I put the letters in my coat pocket and turned back to Fritz, who was reading the journal.

"Hey!" I protested.

He looked up from the bound pages and asked, "New York, eh?"

I sighed, rolling my eyes as I sat down next to him. "Yes."

He smirked. "I figured you were more of a country girl."

"Really?" I asked, slightly stunned. I watched as he continued thumbing through the pages.

"So all of the money you make on you photographs are going to your parents?" he questioned.

"Yes," I replied.

"Interesting."

"Why is that interesting?" I questioned.

He said, "Well, you're concerned that they won't accept you back when this is all over, yet they are taking the money you're making from this whole ordeal. Doesn't make much sense for them to not take you back home when you return."

I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what to say, if anything. I just sat there and watched as he flipped through the pages of the journal before he handed it back to me, suddenly satisfied with what he had read, no longer needing more.

Fritz admitted, "I have to say that you are by far the most interesting woman I have ever had the privilege of meeting."

I felt a blush coming across my face. "Why do you say that?"

"You left home to take care of your family, and instead of doing something safe, like be a nurse back in America, you joined a newspaper to take pictures of the war itself. And don't get me started on your beautiful eyes," he stated.

I scoffed. "Now I know you're making things up."

"You're calling me a liar," he said with amusement.

I nodded. "If the boot fits."

"I've never had a woman call me a liar before," he said playfully.

"Never? Maybe not to your face anyways," I joked.

He let out a fit of laughter, before playfully tickling me. I fought him off as we continued to play.

A voice cleared beside us. When we stopped and looked up, almost embarrassingly, to see Roe had been standing there watching it all.

Roe looked upset to see me next to Fritz, but to his credit, he didn't say anything to him. He asked, "Do you have a moment?"

"Sure," I replied. For some reason, I felt embarrassed that Roe had seen the way that I was with Fritz, but another part of me realized that it didn't matter what he thought because he had clearly moved on.

We walked a few feet from Fritz before he stated, "Looks like you're going to be here a while longer."

"Why's that? What's happened?" I questioned.

He replied, "We're surrounded and until we know where we need to go to get out of there, there's no need for you on the line."

"How much longer?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know."

I nodded slowly, taking in his words. I had been sitting in Bastogne for what felt like an eternity already. Part of me missed the men on the lines, missed seeing their faces, hearing their voices and jokes. Another part of me was happy to be staying in Bastogne with the friends that I was making, but when I looked into Roe's sad eyes, I felt guilty of wanting to stay. The war was beginning to take it's toll on him and it showed.

Roe asked, "If you'd rather, I can ask that you come back to the line."

I shook my head after a moment to think. "If they feel that this is the best place for me to be right now, we shouldn't question their orders."

He stared at me for a moment before quickly glancing at Fritz. He met my eyes once more and I couldn't read the emotions behind them. He slowly nodded as he started to walk away from me. I wondered if he thought there was something more between Fritz and me. He looked hurt, betrayed.

"Eugene?" I called out to him.

He turned to look over at me, waiting for me to continue.

"Be careful out there," I said.

He gave me a half smile before heading to the Jeep that would carry him back to the lines.

That evening, I sat on my cot downstairs with the soldiers, reading the last few pages of my journal. Even though the words weren't triggering any memories, I felt like the words at least began to make sense. I had started analyzing how people treated me or each other, and it seemed like my journal explained some of that. I still had a lot of questions, but I knew that it didn't matter as much anymore. At this point in time, if I remembered who I was, great. If I didn't, that was okay too. I had decided to live my life in the present and take it a day at a time.

As I finished the page I was on, I turned it to reveal a page of blood. I furrowed my brow at the mess that had stained the pages. I wondered what had happened, whose blood it was that was inside my book, when Renee and Anna approached me.

I closed the book and looked up at them, returning the smiles they had on their faces. They looked like they were up to something. "What?" I asked.

Renee asked, "Could you come with us?"

"Where?" I asked, clearly amused.

Anna replied, "We want to show you something."

I was intrigued and stood up from my cot. "All right."

They led me up the stairs to the main floor of the church. In one of our 'operating' rooms, they had a small table set up in the middle of the room and sitting on the top were three presents.

I looked at them confused. "What's this?"

"We have a tradition here, where we open our presents the night before," Renee stated.

"Night before what?" I asked, still not following.

"Christmas," Anna replied. "Did you forget?"

"Christmas? It's Christmas already?" I asked.

Renee chuckled. "We thought you might have forgotten."

"I didn't get you guys anything," I admitted, feeling more and more guilty.

Renee shrugged. "You've helped us for the past few months and that in itself is a present enough."

I smiled at them and gave each a big hug. "Thank you."

Anna said, "Go on. Open them."

I chuckled as I approached the table.

Suddenly, I felt the floor shake beneath my feet. I turned and looked at the girls. "What's going on?" I asked.

Renee listened for a brief moment before shouting, "Every one outside!"

Anna grabbed my hand and explained as she pulled me towards the wounded men in the other room, "We're being bombed! Get the men outside!"

"What about you and Renee?" I asked, watching Renee run down the stairs to start filing the men outside.

"We're right behind you! Go! Get the men out!" Anna shouted as she ran back into the other room.

I watched as a bomb crashed through the roof in the operating room, exploding between me and Anna. I watched as Anna and one of the doctors were blown through the wall they were closest to.

I rushed forward through the dust and smoke. "Anna! Anna! Answer me!"

She stood up, coughing. "I'm fine! Get those men outside!"

I nodded and rushed to help Renee with the wounded.

I watched men hobble up the stairs, trying their hardest to get outside to safety. I grabbed one man's arm and threw it over my shoulder. "Come on! Let's go!"

Men began pouring outside, helping one another out. I managed to get the man I was helping walk outside and turned to go back in to help.

As I neared the entrance, I spotted Renee. She was standing in the foyer of the church, filing the men out the door as quickly as they could go.

"Renee!" I shouted over the explosions around us.

Our eyes locked. Within seconds of our eyes locking, and as I about placed my foot on the steps to rush back inside, and explosion went off in the same place where Renee and several others had just been standing.

The explosion was so bright, it blinded me. I felt the heat from the blast on my cold skin.

I had the feeling of flying. I heard no sounds anymore, no explosions or planes overhead.

I felt a weight crush down on top of me before I felt enveloped by the cold and darkness.

Then...nothing.


	5. Home

**A/N: Thank you GraceLeah07, queenie, and WildflowerField for your reviews. Sorry (but not sorry) for the major cliffhanger!**

 **Wildflower, thank you for your vote on Emmeline's Story. I don't think I'm going to win the contest, but I certainly have more votes than I thought I'd have. Thank you!**

 **Hopefully the kiddo will let me do some writing the next couple days because I'm starting to run out of pre-written chapters. Fingers crossed that I can write a while.**

 **Here's the next chapter! I hope you continue to read and review! Enjoy!  
Reviews make for happier days!**

* * *

"What have you to report, Doc?" Sobel asked, eyeing me carefully. I felt as though he was hoping to find something wrong with my eyes, just so he could get the satisfaction in sending me home.

Roe replied, "There's nothing wrong with her eyes, sir."

"Are you sure?" Sobel asked.

Roe nodded. "Yes sir. I ran the tests twice."

Sobel narrowed his beady eyes at me before saying, "Very well. You'll report to me and only me. If you have questions about this operation, save them. You will get nothing from us. Your job is to only take pictures of what I deem acceptable."

"With all due respect, _sir_ , I am not military. I don't _take_ orders from you. I was given a clearance to take pictures of the training of our men, as well as that in the field to keep people up to date with the war efforts. If you have any questions, you can talk to Colonel Sink or my boss back in New York. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day," I replied. I had a feeling that Sobel and I were going to have problems, and after the eye exam incident, and now this, it was evident that we were destined to disagree.

Sobel stormed out of the infirmary, most likely heading to talk to Sink about my presence and attitude, but I didn't tolerate bullies as a kid, and I certainly wasn't about to put up with it now. If my father did anything for me, it was to stand up for myself and what I believed in. That way of thinking and upbringing might not be considered ideal for a woman and her place, but my father wasn't about to have his only child become a doormat, and for that, I owed him everything.

Roe turned to me. "You realize that you've officially gotten on his bad side?"

I chucked. "He doesn't scare me."  
"You're the only one," he stated as he motioned for me to walk first.

As we began walking outside, Roe asked, "Are you really going to be joining us over there? I mean- you're seriously risking your life for photos?"

I shrugged. "Made sense at the time. I needed to find a productive way to help my family, and it was either doing this or working in some factory back home."

"What about becoming a nurse?" Roe asked.

I shook my head. "Eh, was never too good at making people feel better." Roe looked at me slightly confused so I added, "Terrible bedside manner."

"So, will you be training alongside us then?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I think I'm just here as an observer. I think when the time comes, I'll be heading over with the officers and rejoin you there."

Roe nodded. "That makes sense."

We walked in silence the rest of the way to my private tent. I smiled at Eugene and said, "Thank you for the escort...and the eye exams."

He laughed. "You're welcome." He started to walk away from me, but he stopped and turned to speak. "And try not to get into any more trouble with Sobel, okay? He'll take it out on the rest of us."

I chuckled. "I'll try, but no promises."

He waved goodbye to me as he turned to leave. I watched him walk away, wondering what would become of Doc Roe.

The next morning, I gathered my camera and bag, and headed out to the assembly area, taking pictures of the camp as I went along. I knew that I would have to take pictures of everything to provide my employer a variety of photographs to choose from in hopes of getting paid frequently and handsomely with each roll of film that I would send back home. I knew that once I was overseas where the action was, that it would be easy to find subject matter that I knew for a fact the fat man behind the desk wanted, but during training, I feared that he wouldn't want anything. I hoped that wasn't the case.

I stopped shy of the men as they stood in their PT gear at the base of the massive hill. When Sobel appeared, he began shouting orders at them to start running in formation. The men had quickly fallen into place and started their trek up the dangerous hill. I took a few pictures before they had disappeared into the thick woods.

"How are you settling in?" a voice asked me.

I lowered my camera from my face, turning to see who had joined me. It was Sink. I smiled at him. "I'm doing well, sir. Thank you."

"I heard that you gave Captain Sobel a hard time yesterday afternoon," Sink stated.

I nodded. "Yes sir."

"Not going to deny it?" he asked, almost shocked.

I shook my head. "I don't see why I should deny it. I did nothing wrong, per se."

"You talked back to a commanding officer," Sink replied.

I nodded again. "I understand that, sir. However, I'm not military. He has no place to bully me into submission. If he had just asked me politely to do what he asked, I might have handled things a bit differently."

"You're not related to a John Finley, by chance?" he questioned.

I furrowed my brow at the question. "Yes sir. He's my father."

"I thought I saw him in you. I knew him back in our prime. He's a good man, but took no shit from anyone," Sink stated.

I smiled at him. "Yes, sir."

"I'm going to be frank with you, Miss Finley. The thing about Sobel you have to keep in mind, he is trying to be the best there is in the military. He will not tolerate any misbehaving or undermining of his authority while he is in charge-"

"Which is why he treats the men the way that he does," I added.

Sink nodded. "That's right. Listen carefully, he will not hesitate to find a way to get you dismissed from your assignment. Now, I've heard about what's happened to your father back home, which is why- as I understand it- you have volunteered for this job. Am I correct?"

I nodded, allowing him to continue.

"If Sobel gets you dismissed from your assignment, you'll not be able to find work with the newspaper again. You'll be out of a job, out of money, and out of luck. Now, I am warning you as a favor to John. Try your best to get along with Sobel or stay out of his way," Sink suggested.

I inhaled deeply, gritting my teeth to keep from talking back and just nodded that I heard him.

Sink placed a hand on my shoulder. "Good girl. I'll come talk to you again when the time gets closer for us to head overseas so that we can discuss your situation."

I nodded curtly as he walked away from me. I wasn't thrilled to be told that I had to play nice with the bully of the group, but I appreciated that he was being honest with me to tell me up front that if Sobel decided to get rid of me, there'd be nothing to stop him. If I had to steer clear of him, then that is what I was going to do.

For the next several weeks, I stayed as far away from Sobel as possible. I didn't want to risk being sent home and be unable to provide for my family. The only thing I kept thinking about was how I didn't want to be stuck in some factory or warehouse making bullet casings or sewing uniforms. It didn't pay as well as this gig did, so I really tried my best to stay as hidden as possible.

I walked into the mess hall to grab a bite to eat. The moment that I entered, all eyes fell upon me. I stopped dead in my tracks until the staring eyes finally went back to their meals. I stepped in line and grabbed a plate of whatever slop they were feeding us and sat in the corner where there was no one around.

"Haven't seen you around in a while," a familiar voice spoke in front of me.

I glanced up to see the friendly face of Roe. I returned his smile and he sat down across from me. I said, "Yeah, I've just been keeping a low profile."

"Really low. I thought you went home," he admitted.

I chuckled. "Apparently so did everyone else by the looks I got when I walked in here."

"Why have you been lurking in the shadows?" he asked.

I smirked at his choice of words. "Well, I need to steer clear of Sobel for a while. It was brought to my attention that should he deem it necessary to send me home, he'd succeed, and I need this job."

Roe nodded that he understood. "So, what have you been doing this whole time?"

"Lurking in the shadows, mostly," I replied, using his words from moments before.

He laughed. "Well, I'm glad you're still here."

"Yeah, me too," I admitted.

"Miss Finley?" a new voice asked.

I looked up and saw a young man standing beside me. "Yes?"

"Colonel Sink has requested your presence at your earliest convenience."

I nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

The man walked away, and I turned to look at Roe. "Wonder if I didn't stay in the shadows long enough."

Roe shrugged. "Could be nothing."

"Could be everything," I muttered. I quickly finished my meal and stood up to leave.

"Find me when you're done?" he asked.

I nodded. "If I'm still here, that is."

I left the mess hall and headed towards Sink's office. I had no idea what I was walking into and I felt like all of my defenses were down. I hated not being prepared for things, and when I spotted Sobel standing outside the building, my nerves started to build.

Inside the building, I was led to Sink's office. Once inside, Sink motioned for me to sit down in front of his desk, which I obeyed.

Sink asked, "How are you doing?"

I folded my hands in my lap. "I've been all right, I suppose. Wondering why I'm here."

Sink smiled. "You're not in any trouble, don't worry."

"I saw Captain Sobel standing outside and I thought-"

"You thought that he had finally decided to get rid of you?" Sink finished.

I nodded and waited.

Sink laughed. "Actually, he thought you had left on your own accord, to be honest. He was surprised when I sent for you."

I chuckled. "Well, you did ask that I keep a low profile."

"And you've done just that," he replied.

I swallowed, still nervous about why he wanted to see me. I was growing impatient as I waited for him to get to the point.

Sink looked up from his paperwork and stated, "We're heading out. We're going to be heading to New York to board a ferry that will take us to England."

"England?" I asked. As far as I knew, England had no action to speak of. I didn't understand why we were being sent that way.

Sink must have seen the confusion on my face because he continued, "We're heading there for more training, and they have airfields big enough for our entire Airborne operations. Now, I've not informed the men of this. They have no idea where we are heading, and I hope that you will be discreet in keeping this secret from them."

"So, why are you telling me?" I asked.

He replied, "Because I know that you are not military. You'll be heading over to England on your own and rejoining us later."

"So...I'm to find a flight over there?" I asked, confused.

He nodded. "I'll be giving you the name of a pilot who is in charge of sending our supplies over, and they will be flying some of our officers as well. He said he can take you over there."

I thought it over and asked, "When am I supposed to head out?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight?" I repeated. "Seems pretty short notice."

"We are at war and nothing is ever planned with more notice than you're given," he said.

I stood up from my seat. "Well, I better go pack then."

Sink handed me a piece of folded paper. "This has all the information you need to get you over to England and to the base. I've signed all the required documents in this folder." He pulled a folder out of his desk drawer and passed it to me. He added, "You'll be there before any of us, but that should get you situated and informed about what will happen to you once we head into battle."

I looked at the folder in my hands, but I never opened it. I glanced back up at him and he offered me a kind smile, which I returned.

"I'd also suggest that you bid farewell to your family before you leave. It might be the last time you see them for a while," Sink stated darkly.

I knew what he meant. He wasn't talking about the fact that this war would take a while. He was referring to the fact that I might not make it home alive. He was giving me time to see my family once more before I left them, possibly forever.

I nodded and extended my hand to him. "Thank you."

He reached out and shook my hand. "Tell your father that I said hello."

I released his hold and said, "I will."

"I'll see you in England," he added.

I smiled, giving him a curt nod before turning and leaving his office.

I finished packing my things into my father's old duffel he had given me, and I slung my camera bag over my shoulder before walking out of the tent.

Roe spotted me from across the way and came over to me. "Where are you going?"

I met his concerned eyes and replied, "I can't tell you."

"What? Was it Sobel? What did Sink say?" he asked, clearly upset.

I gave him a half smile and replied, "I wish I could tell you, but I've been sworn to secrecy."

"Jane, what happened? Talk to me, please," he begged.

The look on his face was breaking my heart, even though I knew that I'd see him again in a few weeks, but there was just something that was pulling on my heartstrings. I sighed heavily. "If I tell you, you have to promise that you'll keep it to yourself."

"I promise," he said.

I studied his face for a moment before realizing that I believed him. "We're moving out. We're heading to England."

"When?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know, but Colonel Sink has given me enough warning to go home and see my family one more time before we are shipped out to war. I want to take that time to say my goodbyes."

"England, though? Why there?" he mused out loud.

I replied, "There's a base there. You'll be doing more training and eventually flying out to war, using their airstrips. I guess they are big enough to handle our Airborne."

Roe nodded. "Makes sense...but why are you not coming with us?"

"I think Sink wanted to make sure that I spent some time with my family before leaving. I've got all the documents required to rejoin you in England," I stated.

"I'm going to miss you," he admitted.

I smiled. "I'll miss you too. It's going to be a long few weeks without seeing your face."

He sighed. "I best not keep you any longer. I'll see you over there."

"You bet. And um...don't say anything to anyone about what I told you," I said again.

He nodded. "Not a word."

I gave him a hug and whispered, "Take care, Eugene."

"I'll see you soon," he whispered back.

We pulled away from one another and I headed to the Jeep that would take me to the bus station that would eventually take me back home.

I stepped out of the cab that had taken me back home. I stood outside of the house, looking at it. For some reason, it felt different being home. There was almost a heaviness to the house and I wasn't sure why.

I climbed the short steps up to the door and reached for the doorknob but stopped. I felt like I had to knock on my own door, and so I did. I waited for someone to come answer the door, and eventually knocked louder.

When I saw movement behind the frosted glass, I knew someone was finally coming. The door opened, and I was face to face with my mother. She stood there, staring at me. I couldn't put my finger on the emotion behind her expression, but I knew for certain that it wasn't happiness.

"Hello, mother," I spoke first.

She blinked at me. "I thought you were gone."

"They gave me some time to spend with you and father before I was shipped overseas," I explained.

She continued staring at me, not making any movements to allow me into the house. "How long are you in town for?"

I furrowed my brow. "What do you ask?"

"I already said my goodbyes," she started.

"Mom, I'm not asking-"

"You'll do well to just leave," she stated.

"Wait a minute, what about dad? Doesn't he get a say in this?" I asked.

She shook her head. "We're both very disappointed in you-"

"What for?" I demanded to know.

She sighed. "I'm not getting into this with you."

"Let me talk to dad-"

"Goodbye, Jane," she said as she started to close the door.

I wedged my foot in between the door and the frame. "Wait! Talk to me, please! Why are you so angry with me? Is the money not coming here?"

"It's not about the money!" my mother shouted.

"Then what is it?" I begged to know.

"Why can't you learn your place?" she shouted.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

She glared at me. "You had to go and get a job, a man's job-"

"To support you and dad!" I shouted back.

"I told you not to! We didn't need your help!"

"If I didn't do it, who would have? Dad can't work anymore!" I retorted.

"Get out of my house! You're not welcome here!" she shouted again, trying to slam the door on my foot.

Before she could fully slam the door closed, I spied my dad standing in the doorway to the kitchen, which could be seen from the front door. Our eyes locked, and I could see the sadness and disappointment within his eyes, but he didn't do or say anything to stop my mother.

I withdrew my foot from the frame, allowing the front door to slam in my face. The click to the lock was heard, and the shades were pulled. I felt my shoulders drop in defeat and I turned to leave, only to be face to face with several neighbors staring at me.

I blinked the tears away as I picked up my things and started down the steps. I could feel the heat of everyone's eyes following me down the sidewalk as I headed back to the main road in hopes of catching a cab that would take me to the airport.

It took every fiber of my being to keep from crying. My own family had disowned me for getting a job to support them, so that my injured father wouldn't have to risk his life anymore by trying to work. It didn't even dawn on me that they were keeping the money I was sending to them.


	6. Forever With You

**A/N: Thank you Queenie and Wildflower Field for your reviews. Sorry to have kept you guys waiting for so long between chapters.**

 **Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!  
Reviews make for happier days!  
**

* * *

I arrived in England and suddenly wished that I had a heavier coat. It was rainy, cold, and overcast practically every day. The people seemed nice enough, but it wasn't home. I found myself thinking about home, how things were left back at my parents' house, and I even wondered how Roe was doing and when he would be arriving.

I spent a lot of my time getting to know the men on the base, taking their pictures, and watching them train. I even got some pictures of the men dressed in the enemies' uniforms. I thought if anything, my boss could twist the image to read something about my meeting up with some of the enemy and creating some bogus story. It was something he would do, and I'm sure he would. I didn't care as long as I got paid.

I kept busy, kept out of the way, and wrote in my journal to pass the time. Weeks had gone by before word had reached my ears that Easy Company and the others were arriving that evening. Since hearing that news, my heart was light and excited. I couldn't wait to see familiar faces, including Eugene's.

When they finally arrived, they were too busy trying to get settled in, talking to the Englishmen dressed in German uniforms, and wondering where the food was. I spied several men that I recognized, but failed to see Roe. The one thing that I had noticed was how exhausted each man looked. I began to wonder if I would see Roe tomorrow.

Sobel had glanced my direction but didn't seem to notice me in the swarm of people. I was thankful for that as I didn't want to have another fight with that man.

When my eyes finally landed on a familiar face, I smiled wide and started making my way over to him. He turned around, just before I had reached him, and our eyes locked. He smiled at me and met me half way.

"You're here already!" he stated.

I smiled. "I've been here for a few weeks."

Roe hugged me. "Why? I thought you were visiting your family one last time."

"That was the initial plan."

"They weren't home?" he asked.

I thought about what I wanted to say. "Something like that."

I didn't want him to worry or question what my parents' mental stability was or how it would impact me. I was just happy that he was finally here.

"So, anything about England that I should know about?" he asked with a smile.

"It's always cold, always raining, and the food is...well, interesting," I admitted.

He chuckled. "Good to know."

I walked with him for a short while before he added, "It's good to see you, Jane."

"You too, Eugene. I was beginning to wonder when you'd actually show," I stated.

He laughed. "Well, we had to take a train to New York, followed by a boat to England, and buses to get here."

I raised my eyebrows. "Quite the journey. I feel lucky that I didn't have quite that trip."

"And the men started getting stir crazy below decks and started fighting with each other," he said.

"Oh no! Now I am really glad that I was not aboard the boat!" I chuckled.

He smiled at me again and stopped. "Well, I best get my things into my barracks. I'll see you around though."

I nodded. "I hope so!"

We exchanged smiles and each turned to go our separate ways.

As I headed towards my tent, I found myself caught in the middle of a fight. A soldier stopped me before I aimlessly waltzed into the circle in which they were fighting. I asked the man who stopped me, "What's going on? Why are they fighting?"

"They're fighting because that tall one there has been bullying the smaller guy there. I guess the smaller guy finally snapped."

"Bullying him? Over what?" I asked, thinking this whole thing stupid.

The guy shrugged. "Beats me, but my money's on the little guy."

I sighed. I hated this power struggle that seemed to come from some men whenever they were grouped together for extended periods of time. If I was able to break up the fight, I would have in a heartbeat.

Shouts and whistles were heard, men scattered except for the two fighting, a couple soldiers, and me. The MPs showed up and began to break up the fight.

One of the MPs asked, "What's the meaning of this? Who started this fight?"

The big guy looked at the smaller one, with half a smirk. "This punk here. He started it."

"That's not true! You've been riding my ass this whole time!" the smaller man shouted back.

The MPs separated them again. "Looks like you're going to be heading to a court martial or back home."

The look on the shorter man's face was heartbreaking to me. When I looked back at the taller soldier, I noticed he was an officer, and he was sniggering. My blood began to boil.

I stepped forward. "Actually, it wasn't this guy's fault."

The MPs glanced my direction. "What was that?"

I could feel the burning gaze from the officer. If looks could kill, I'd have been burned on the spot. "This guy didn't start the fight."

"You sure about that?" the MP asked. I could see the worried look in his eyes, almost as if he knew that if I kept to my story, the officer would most likely be out to get me later. He was already memorizing me for such an event.

I nodded. "Yes sir."

"She's lying. You're going to believe this little girl over me?" he asked.

The MPs asked, "Anyone else here see who started this fight?"

When no one wanted to brave the situation and I realized that the MPs might just let this one slide, I motioned to the camera that was slung over my shoulder. "I've got pictures. Of course, we'd have to send them back to get developed, which might make for a really long wait in a jail cell, or you could just take my word for it."

The MPs looked down at my camera and let the smaller man go. The reached for the officer who immediately started to fight them. "Come on man, don't fight us!"

"You're going to regret this, bitch! I'll make sure you get what's coming to you!" the angry officer shouted at me as the MPs dragged him away.

Once the crowd dispersed, the smaller man approached me. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I replied.

"Why'd you do that? Why risk your life and career for someone like me?" he asked.

"Someone like you? Why not? I mean, what's so different about you than anyone else?" I asked.

He smiled. "Gary Parker."

I shook his hand. "Jane Finley."

"Did you really get pictures?" he asked.

I whispered, "No, but they don't know that."

He laughed. "Quite the bluff."

I shrugged my shoulders and started to walk away when the man followed me.

"I am curious...why did you do that?"

I stopped and looked at him. "Honestly? I never could stand bullies."

Gary stood there and watched as I walked away from him. I didn't want to know why he was the target of such behavior, but I knew that in due time, I'd probably find out more about that situation than I'd ever want to know.

The next few days were difficult to adjust to as Sobel had finally spotted me and I had to continue lurking in the shadows to avoid his attitude. Of course, by lurking in the shadows meant that any time I would have had to spend with Roe was taken away from me.

I spent the next few days trying to get pictures of the men training, but ended up wasting more film on the landscapes around the base instead. I knew that it wasn't what I should be taking pictures of, but I didn't have much choice. Everything was closed off to me or Sobel was there.

Once the men were familiar with the routine of their daily lives, Roe and I were finally able to spend some time together. We talked a lot during our time with one another, speaking about family and what we were doing before the war, and what we hoped to do once it was over -should we survive.

It was easy to talk to Eugene and it felt natural. It was never forced with him, and I began to feel like we were growing closer together than just friends.

Eugene and I walked around the base together, as we did every day whenever we had a spare moment.

"How was the visit with your family?" he asked.

I released a long sigh. "Wasn't what I expected."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, they practically disowned me," I replied.

He furrowed his brow. "What? Why?"

"I don't really know, but my mom refused to let me inside the house, started yelling at me, which got all the neighbors to come out and stare at us, and slammed the door in my face," I said.

"What about your dad?" he asked.

I shook my head. "He just stood there, letting it happen."

"I'm sorry," Roe replied.

I gave him a sympathetic smile. "It is what it is. I don't understand it, but...what can you do?"

"What about the money?" he asked.

"What money?" I started but then I understood his question. "Oh. The money I'm making for doing this...it's still going to them."

"Really?" he asked. "You're not going to stop sending it to them?"

"Well, the whole point to my coming out here was to help my father. I thought that if I took this job, they would be set up for life, or until I got home. When the fight happened, I didn't even think about the money...not until you mentioned it just now," I admitted.

"So...are you going to keep sending it to them?" he asked again.

I shrugged. "I guess. I mean, they may just be mad that I'm doing this, and maybe they are behaving this way in hopes that I will just come home, begging for forgiveness-"

"Or they will continue to treat you this way and just keep your money," he suggested.

I nodded in agreement. "That's always a possibility, too."

"I think you should stop sending them money," he told me.

I understood what he was saying, but I still held some small hope that my family still wanted me to come home. Maybe I was being played the naive fool, but I couldn't give up on my family. If I found myself alive after the end of this war and back on my family's steps, and if they didn't want me back even then, well...I guess that I was wrong. Until then, I didn't want to think about it.

Roe asked, "So, have you gotten any useful pictures since you've been here?"

I chuckled. "I don't know what you'd consider useful. I don't even know what will be used, if anything. I just take pictures of everything and hope that I get paid."

Roe laughed. "I'm sure you'll do just fine."

We walked a ways in silence before I asked, "So...tell me something. Do you have anyone back home, missing you?"

Roe raised an eyebrow at me. "Someone? You mean, like family?"

"Well, yes, family...but I was thinking more along the lines of a sweetheart or something," I explained.

He shook his head. "Not really."

I could tell by the expression on his face that he didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to make him uncomfortable by pushing him into a conversation that he didn't want to talk about, so I changed the subject. "It's a nice day out today."

He looked up into the clear sky. "Yeah, it is."

"For once," I added.

He laughed. "Yes. For once, it's a nice day."

We looked at one another, sharing a laugh before someone approached us. "Miss Finley?"

"Yes?"

"Colonel Sink wishes to speak with you," the young kid said.

I looked at Roe. "I guess I'll see you later."

We waved to one another as I turned to follow the young man to Sink's office. I wondered what it was this time.

I entered the office of Sink and waited for him to acknowledge my presence. When he finally looked up, he motioned for me to sit before him.

"How are you doing, Miss Finley?" he asked.

I replied, "I'm fine, sir. How are you?"

He smiled. "Just fine. I wanted to let you know what the plan is going to be for you in the next couple of days."

I waited for him to continue. I had a quick flashback to how he said this to me just before he sent me home...which had ended in disaster.

"Soon, the men will be heading to Europe to join the war efforts there. I cannot tell you the exact day or time, but I need to inform you of what will happen to you specifically."

I nodded to let him know that I was still following along with him. It was a habit that I had formed while my father would speak. He wanted to make sure that I understood him as he spoke, and also to make sure that I was still listening to him. I had taken that habit with me all of my adult years.

Sink continued, "Now, as you know, it's too dangerous for you to be jumping behind the lines with the men, not to mention that you lack the proper training to do so. That leaves very few options for you to get over there with them."

I knew that I lacked the training to jump. The thought had never occurred to me that I would be jumping, but I always wondered what they were planning on doing with me.

"Once the order to attack is given, and once things are organized and deemed safe enough for the officers to join the troops on the mainland, we will bring you along so you can rejoin Easy Company," he stated.

"How am I getting there?" I asked.

"There will be a boat that most of the officers from headquarters will be on. That's the boat we will be putting you on and will join them on the ride to the mainland once things are safe enough to come over," he explained.

"And you don't know when we are leaving?' I asked.

"I do, but unfortunately, I can't tell you that right now," he replied.

"When will you be telling me?" I asked.

"When it's necessary."

"So, I should be prepared to leave at any time?" I questioned.

He nodded. "Let me just say that this is more information than I am supposed to be giving you."

"Then why are you?" I asked.

"As a favor to your father," he replied.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "No offense, sir, but there is only so many favors you can give my father after all these years. Besides, I'm sure that he doesn't want me to have any special treatments."

"I doubt that very much, Jane. He's always spoken highly of you," Sink stated.

I pursed my lips in doubt. I felt like what he had said was just words, especially after how I was treated when I went to have my last visit with family. My father just stood there and watched as I was disowned by the family. How could he consider me in any regard, high or otherwise, when he just stood there? It didn't make sense to me, but instead of fighting Sink on matters which I felt he didn't know anything about, I just nodded that I heard him.

"Just be prepared to leave, Jane. It could be any time now," Sink warned. I knew enough to know that he was telling me that it was coming very soon.

I nodded and stood up. "Thank you, sir. I'll go prepare."

Sink smiled as he stood up with me and shook my hand. "I'll see you over there when the time comes."

I released his hand and headed outside of the building.

Once I was outside, I spied Roe waiting for me. When our eyes locked, he smiled at me, but the smile quickly vanished when he saw the look on my face. "What's wrong?"

"I think I'll be leaving again soon," I stated.

"What? When?" he asked.

"I don't know, but Sink made it sound like it's going to be very soon," I admitted.

Roe asked, "Why though? Where are you going?"

"My guess is that I will be shipped to the coast where I'll be put on a boat and will be there until they tell me that I can come join you and the rest of the Company. I'm not sure how long that will be," I said.

I could see the thoughts running wild through his head. The emotions on his face were so many and so rapid that it was hard to see what he was thinking.

He looked at me and said, "Then I guess we better make good use of the time we have until you rejoin us over there."

He took my hand and led me down the lane.

"Where are we going?" I asked, laughing as he pulled me along.

We spent the afternoon together, walking about the base, and even the surrounding woods nearby.

I asked, stepping over a fallen tree, "Are we allowed to be out here?"

Roe shrugged. "Probably not, but we're here now."

"You're a bad influence," I stated with a smirk.

He turned to face me. "I'm the bad influence?"

I nodded. "You are the one who brought me here. It was your idea, so yes."

He smiled at me. "If anyone is a bad influence, it's you."

"I beg to differ."

"I never broke rules before you," he admitted.

"Oh, so you're a goody two-shoes?" I asked.

He nodded. "You know me so well."

We continued walking through the woods. I finally asked, "Do you know where you're going?"

He nodded. "I found this nice spot when we were out here for a training exercise, and it's taking me a little longer to find than I had originally thought."

I held in a laugh. "So you're not a scout. Got to remember that."

He glanced over his shoulder at me. "You're funny."

"I know. You love it."

He stopped and smiled. "We're almost there."

"You sure?" I joked.

He motioned me forward. "This way."

I followed him through the brush and into a small clearing that overlooked a river. It was serene, untouched, and beautiful. It took the breath from you. I looked over at him and said, "This is beautiful."

He smiled, clearly proud of himself. "I saw this and thought of you."

I studied his face for a moment before turning my attention back to the breathtaking scene. "Can we just stay here forever? Never leave?"

He chuckled. "I think that would be considered going AWOL."

"You think someone would find us out here?" I joked. "It was troublesome to find, after all."

He laughed. "I'm not a scout, as you so eloquently pointed out earlier."

"Did you bring water?" I asked.

He nodded. "Even a little provisions if you need it."

I stated, "We've got food and water, we can stay here for the rest of the war."

He smirked. "I didn't bring that much."

"Don't ruin the moment with your logical thinking..." I laughed.

He stood next to me and I could feel the warmth coming from him. "If I could stay here for the rest of my life with you, I would in a heartbeat."

I looked into his dark eyes. "Uh..."

He leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips. For a moment, the world had slowed. The sounds of the river quieted and the rustling of the tree leaves had stopped. For one perfect moment, the world was right; there was no war, no waiting transport. In this perfect moment, all I felt was happiness being with Eugene.

The moment his lips left mine, all sorts of thoughts came rushing into my head. I began to wonder if the only reason he was kissing me, showing me any interest, spending time with me, was all due to the fact that the inevitable was approaching. It wasn't uncommon for men to have quick romances with a girl before being shipped out because they think they will die before the war was over. I had several thoughts similar to this rushing through my mind that I had to force myself to silence them.

Roe and I had spent so much time together since I met him. We became fast friends, but I wasn't sure that we were soul mates. I wasn't ready to base an entire relationship off one kiss that was probably more geared towards nerves of the impending jump than any real feelings. If we were to solidify a relationship, we'd have to continue nursing this feeling. I wasn't one of those girls to just fall head over heels for a man just because of one kiss...no matter how amazing that kiss was.

My heart was mocking me, _Don't ruin this feeling with your logical thinking._

My brain was telling me, _Take it slow. He might not survive the jump. You might not survive the war._

When we arrived back to the base, Roe walked me to my barracks to pack my things for my ride out. The moment we neared the building, I could see a couple of men standing outside. Their eyes landed on us the moment we were in view and they did not look happy.

"Miss Finley? Care to explain where you've been this whole time?" one asked me.

I asked, "Is there a problem?"

"We were sent to collect you hours ago-"

I cut the man off. "Collect?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Collect? Like I'm some trinket for you to just pick up and put in your pocket? You might want to rethink your words, soldier," I retorted.

Roe muttered under his breath, "Tread lightly with these guys."

I looked at Roe and replied, "I don't care. They need to treat people with a little more grace and dignity."

The soldiers stepped forward and one said, "We were ordered to escort you to your awaiting ride to the coast. Because of your disappearance, things have been delayed and you're already in a lot of trouble. I wouldn't press your luck any further by pissing us off."

The second soldier added, "Haven't you ever heard of not killing the messenger?"

I looked at the once silent soldier and replied, "Yes, but I like killing the messenger. You know why? It sends a message!"

Roe pulled on my arm slightly and whispered into my ear, "You need to stop. If they wanted to, they could shoot you on sight and make up some bogus story about why they did it. Just stop."

I furrowed my brow at him, but saw the concern in his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

"They used to work directly under Sobel. Now that Sobel's gone, they might take it out on you since he hated you so much. Please, just stop being difficult," Roe warned.

I sighed heavily. I turned to the men and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be taking it out on you. It's been a very long and trying day. I'm sorry that I wasn't ready and awaiting for you as ordered."

The men still had unhappy faces, but at least they backed off the attitude slightly.

I turned to Roe, who still looked concerned for me. "Hey. I'll be okay. I'll see you over there."

Roe looked like he had more to tell me, but couldn't as we had an audience. Instead, he said, "I'll see you over there. Until then, take care of yourself."

"You too. Stay alive," I ordered.

I turned back to my barracks and said as I passed by the soldiers in waiting, "I'll be a moment. Just need to get my things."

"You've got five minutes," the first man stated.

I gritted my teeth, trying to play nice as ordered by Roe. I realized that it was going to be a rough travel day with those two, but I kept telling myself that it was only going to be a short amount of time before I was reunited with Roe...at least, that's what I had hoped.


	7. Light Up The Dark

**A/N: Thank you Queenie and Wildflower Field for your reviews. Glad you're still with me!**

 **Also, it would be super fantastic if you guys wouldn't mind heading over to Inkitt and voting for We Were There once more. They've started another fanfic contest, and this time, I've actually submitted the story earlier than a week before it's over. =\ I thank you all for helping me out for sure on that, including last time. I don't have a url to post here for you, but if you search for the story by We Were There or even Emmeline, it should pop up.**

 **Thank you guys for being awesome! Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers, and here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!**

 **Reviews make for happier days!**

* * *

The travel day was not as quick as I had hoped it would be. The soldiers drove me to the naval yard and made sure that I boarded the ship in which I was to ride over to Europe. I began to wonder why there was such a tight leash on me, but then I remembered that Roe and I had spent the day together, almost hiding from everyone. It most likely got us into some trouble.

The drive was quiet. The men didn't speak a word to me. Not even to ask if I was okay or if I needed a break. I suppose it was better for all three of us to not speak at all. If Roe was correct in his assumption that these men held a grudge against me for what happened with Sobel, the last thing I needed to do was get myself killed while in their 'care'.

When we finally arrived to the naval yard and I was inside my room, I pulled out my journal and began writing all about the events that led me to this very moment. It had been a while since I had written anything and as I continued writing, the pages began filling up and the time had begun to fly by. The moment I closed the cover to my journal, word had gotten to everyone on board that we were heading out into open waters, ready to make our mark on history.

I wasn't told what was going to happen once we neared Europe. I didn't know who was going to be attacking first, whether it was the Airborne or the Seaborne, but I knew that it would be quite a while before I would set foot on solid ground again. I would have to wait until our men had secured the landing zone, and no one knew how long that was going to be. The only thing that we knew for certain was that the enemy would be expecting us and many men would die trying to secure the area. I prayed that everyone would be safe, even though I knew that people were going to die. I prayed most of all that my friends, especially Eugene, would survive their jump into occupied territory. I wanted Roe to survive. I needed him to survive.

Very early the next morning, I felt the ship rolling to a stop. I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and headed up to the deck. I stood on the deck with the officers as we looked out across the ocean at the mainland.

I could see the bright flashes lighting up the dark morning sky. I could hear faint booms echoing across the waters. I stood there in dumbstruck awe as I watched the beginning of war unfold. It suddenly occurred to me that I should be taking pictures. This is why I was here after all.

I pulled the camera from my bag and began taking pictures of the scene before me. I wasn't confident that much would turn out as I took the pictures because of the hour, but if they did turn out, these would be surreal.

I heard a familiar voice speak beside me. "Miss Finley. Nice of you to finally join us."

I lowered the camera from my face and looked over. "Yes sir. Sorry about that."

Sink smiled as he turned back to watch the mainland. "You have become quite difficult to locate."

"Well, you said lay low..." I started.

"Not that low," he replied under his breath.

I smiled and asked, "What happened to Sobel?"

"Reassigned."

I knew better than to press my luck with getting more information than that. The fact that he had already pushed the boundaries of what to tell me was obvious and the last thing that I needed to do was to put him on the spot with his COs nearby by asking for more details.

"How long until we join the men on the mainland?" I asked.

Sink shrugged. "Depends on how quickly they work. We've already received word that something went wrong with the drop zones for the Airborne. We're not sure what happened, but we are hoping that didn't impact them too severely. As for the Seaborne...well, as long as they push hard and fast up the beach to the bunkers, they may do just fine."

I studied his face. He seemed confident, but there was also that obvious fear spread across his face. I turned back to watch the battle from the safety of my boat, suddenly more afraid for the men who were over there than I was just a moment before. Hearing that things were already not going according to plan had me panicked for those I cared about...like Roe.

I hadn't spent all of my time with him, but we had spent a lot of what little time we did have together and there was certainly a connection there. I never realized how strong that feeling was until this moment where I was worried for him, more so than any friend would feel for someone.

Sink whispered, "I think you best head back to your bunk, Jane. We'll send for you when it's time to head to shore."

I nodded and took one last long look at the battle on the beach. I said another silent prayer for those landing before turning back into the boat. Waiting was hell, and it would be a long wait before I was sent for. Waiting meant that my mind had time to think and worry, and worrying meant that I was thinking up scenarios in which many turned out badly for those I cared about. There was nothing to do but wait and worry, and it made me sick to my stomach.

The time had finally arrived when I was sent for and brought up to the deck of the ship. Sink and a few of his orderlies were ready to sail to the shore. He had explained to me that I would be sticking with them until they could reach Easy Company further inland.

I secured my helmet to my head and was ready to go. Truth was, I needed to get off this damned boat before I lost what little sanity I had left. I knew that it was all due to the anxiety I had while waiting, but I never was one to wait.

The boat ride to the mainland was rocky. I felt a bit queasy as the boat crashed about on the waves and finally understood why so many had gotten seasick riding in these. I hoped that I wouldn't throw up on the way over. It was bad enough that I was getting nasty stares from some of the men for even being here, but it was also challenging when some of those men were fond of Sobel and held a grudge for what happened, even though I wasn't to blame.

I stared at the horizon, watching the mainland get bigger and suddenly, I began seeing the bodies floating in the red tinted water. A lump had formed in my throat. If I didn't want to throw up before, this certainly would have caused that feeling to arise.

The boat's driver shouted, "You're going to have to climb out here! There's too much debris to push through!"

Sink nodded and they began lowering the door to the boat. The moment it crashed down onto the water, the scene that lay before us was horrifying. My stomach lurched and fell, my heart stopped, and I wanted to cry. I was beginning to question why I was here, why I was stupid enough to think that I could do this job. I didn't know if I would be capable of taking pictures of the effects of war, the dead men that lay on the sand while their blood stained the beaches. I wasn't sure of anything the moment the doors had opened.

Sink had jumped into the waist deep water and turned to see me staring out before me. "Jane! Let's go!"

I forced myself to move forward. I didn't want to. I wanted to go home but I remembered that I couldn't go home. As I jumped into the water behind Sink, I began to remember why I chose to come here. I was here seeing what war was like, knowing that it was seeing images like this to understand the severity of the issues. I wanted to make people aware back home just how awful war was, why we were under the restrictions we were, and show them that no matter how much the news tried to tell us that things were going well, that they weren't. People needed to see the truth.

It was at this very moment that I remembered that I needed to take these pictures, not just for the people back home, but for the people who died, and for the people in the future to understand just how horrible war was, the impact that it had on everyone and everything, and to make a difference in how people perceived the world.

The moment my shaky legs reached the shore, I started taking pictures of everything I could. I took pictures of medics trying to mend wounds with wet bandages, of men gathering the dead, of men smoking and talking about what they had just endured these past few hours. I took pictures of the damage to the beach, to the bunkers in the hills, and the boats in the water, waiting for orders. I wanted to capture everything and the more I took pictures, the more invested in my mission I became.

I heard the camera click, knowing that I had already used a whole roll of film, and it needed to be replaced. I used two and a half rolls of film on this beach alone. I suspected that I would be doing the same in the future as we continued inward. This was only the beginning of this war. There would be many more battles over an extended period of time so I would have plenty to document, should I survive long enough, that is. I also knew that I would need to be careful not to blow through so much of my film as I wasn't sure how frequently I would be restocked by The Times.

"Jane!" I heard Sink shout.

I looked over my shoulder and spied him waving me over to him. I jogged over to him.

"We're going to be heading out with the 10th Armored Division. They said they have heard that men are gathering at an old farmhouse a few miles from here. My guess is that Easy Company has assembled there," he explained.

I nodded and followed Sink to his Jeep. Climbing into the back seat, I stared out at the scene we were leaving behind. We had lost so many men on that beach and I was afraid of how many we had lost behind the lines.

The drive to this old farmhouse was challenging. We ran into some of our men, we ran into some of the enemy, we had to detour around debris and roadblocks, but we eventually made it to our destination.

We knew we had taken control of the farmhouse when we spied more and more of our men about. I began to release the breath I had been holding when I started to see our men. Many of them looked completely untouched, but there were a few who had seen better days.

When we drove into the property and the driver parked the Jeep, I jumped out of the backseat and looked for familiar faces.

Sink looked at one of the soldiers and ordered, "I'm looking for the COs of each Company gathered. Bring them here as soon as you find them."

"Yes sir," the man said with a salute before running off to find the men.

I looked at Sink and asked, "Should I look for members of Easy?"

Sink nodded. "That would be fine. There should be a few of them around."

I began my search for familiar faces. I saw so many men around the grounds, but none of them looked familiar to me. Many of the men gave me strange glances and I knew it was because I was the only female around for quite possibly miles.

I rounded the corner and spied someone I actually knew. "Luz!"

He turned around. "Hey! You made it!"

I approached him, giving him a hug when I reached him and asked, "How was your jump?"

"Oh, you know, like training, except we had people firing at us," he joked.

"Who else is here?" I asked, looking around.

"Maybe ten of us walking about out here, looking for someone to tell us what we need to do," he replied.

It wasn't the answer I was looking for, but I wasn't about to ask him specifics. If 10 men from Easy Company had survived, I knew that more would most likely be around soon. It was just a matter of time before they started showing up.

Loud booms echoes nearby. They were pretty close as it rattled my ribcage. I cringed with each explosion that was heard. I asked, "What is that?"

Luz shrugged. "They think there's a battery nearby. I'm thinking it's over that way." He pointed towards the fields and added, "And I bet you that we're gonna be the ones to go out there and silence 'em."

I smiled. "Well, you are the best, aren't you?"

"Always," he replied, smiling at me. "You joining us out there?"

"And do what? Shoot the enemy with my camera?" I joked.

He laughed. "At least you'd be shooting something."

"Hey! Look what the cat dragged in!" another familiar voice shouted.

I looked over Luz's shoulder to see Liebgott. He smiled as he approached us. "Hey Lieb."

"When'd you get here?" he asked. "You're late to the party."

"Looks like I'm arriving just in time from the sound of it," I said, referring to the battery in the fields.

Liebgott smirked. "Eh, maybe. Should be interesting to see who they choose to go out there. I'm thinking it's not us."

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"There's only a handful of us here. I think there's more men from Dog Company here than Easy," he pointed out.

Luz took a drag from his cigarette. "We are the best, Lieb. Don't you think they'd send their best?"

I waited for Liebgott's response. It was what I had said to Luz not seconds before, but Lieb didn't see to think it was true. "Maybe," he muttered.

I saw Winters walking over to Compton and exchanging some words. Compton nodded and started to head towards us. When he neared, he ordered, "Easy Company! Gather at the barn. We've got work to do."

Luz looked over at Liebgott. "Shoulda put money on it."

Liebgott groaned as he headed over to where we were ordered to assemble.

I followed them, unsure of what else I was supposed to do. I was assigned to Easy Company. I knew that I wouldn't be physically going into battle with them to take out the battery, but I also knew that eventually, I'd have no choice but to participate with some battles. It was inevitable. Whether that time was now or later, who could say.

Once inside the barn, Winters gave the run down of the mission. He assigned the men to specific groups and the men headed out to get ammo.

Winters looked at me. "I think it's best if you stay here for the time being."

I nodded. "I figured as much."

He asked, "Do you have a watch?"

I nodded again, raising my wrist so he could see it.

"Wait ten minutes after we leave and then request ammo to be sent out to us. We're going to need it," he stated.

"Okay. I can do that," I replied, unsure of who I would mention this important piece of information to, but I knew I'd figure it out somehow.

Winters offered me a kind smile. "It's good to see you, Jane."

"You too, sir," I said, returning the smile. It was true. I was happy to see that he had survived. I always thought he was a good man and a good friend. I hated what happened to him during Sobel's reign, but he had survived, much like I knew he'd survive this war. It was just a feeling to me.

I turned around to look at the men one last time before they were to head out and bumped into a man. "Sorry!"

The man looked up at me and flashed a familiar smile. "Jane!"

I blinked at my name and realized who I had bumped into. "Eugene!"

We quickly embraced one another, happy to see that we had survived day one. I pulled away and asked, "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "It's been a long day."

I smirked at the comment. I could only imagine how tiring it was for him. I had no place to comment as I had been brought to the farmhouse by Jeep and didn't have to worry about getting shot on the way out. "I'm glad you're okay."

He looked down at this feet for a second before glancing over his shoulder at the men. "I should get going. I'm probably going to be needed."

I nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"It's nice to see you, Jane! I'll see you when I return," he stated as he started to make his way to the rest of the men.

We waved to each other and I stood there watching as he headed out to the fields with the rest of the men.

He had survived the jump into occupied territory and here I was, watching him running off into a battle zone. I prayed he'd continue to survive. I felt this pang in my chest as he had disappeared from my sights. It was like looking at a miracle and having it ripped away from you. War was hell, and it wasn't going to be easy watching him risk his life every moment of every day as he helped those around him. I knew that I had to be strong for him.

I glanced down at my watch and noted the time. _0915_. Ten minutes of waiting before I had to tell someone to send ammo out to them.

"Miss Finley," a voice spoke behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder. "Sir?"

Speirs stepped before me, towering over me. "Looking for someone?"

"No sir. Just waiting," I replied.

"On what?" he asked, eyeing me.

I felt like he was searching my soul for something. He was intimidating and I knew that if I were to be interrogated by him, I'd probably end up telling him things that I didn't even realize that I knew. "Winters had asked me to send someone out there in ten minutes with ammo."

He nodded as he looked out towards the fields of Brecourt. "And how long has it been?"

I looked down at my watch again. "Only two minutes, sir."

He glanced sideways at me. "I'll take the ammo out to him now."

"He said ten minutes though..."

"He'll need more men too. Thank you, Miss Finley," Speirs said as he rushed away from me.

I watched as he motioned for his men to assemble and he picked a handful of them, ordered them to strip most of their gear off, and take some ammo for themselves as he loaded the rest into a small bag.

Within a couple minutes, Speirs and his men headed towards the fields. I couldn't believe how quick he was to head into danger. I wondered if he was always this reckless or if he just didn't think he'd get killed. Whatever his reasoning was for his actions, I found myself intrigued but scared for him.

I wandered about the farm aimlessly before I took out my camera and started taking pictures of the area. I didn't have a lot to take pictures of, and found myself just sitting around waiting for the men to return.

I learned quickly that sitting around and waiting was one of the hardest things to do when there was a battle raging on nearby. Every sound made you tense up and fear for the people who were fighting. The longer I sat, the more my mind began drifting back to the moments before I landed on the beach with the officers. I remembered how beautiful yet terrifying the whole ordeal was. Then my mind got stuck on those that were still on the beach when my feet finally hit the sand. It was weird that I could still hear the tide crashing onto the blood stained sand, the smell of blood that filled the smoky air, the cries and moaning from those who were severely wounded and still clinging to life. I couldn't get my mind to stop focusing on those images. I felt sick to my stomach just knowing that this wasn't the last time I would feel this way. This was the first of many battles that I would have to endure and capture through the lens of my camera.

I began to feel deep regret in signing up for this. Maybe my parents were right in feeling the way they felt when they tried to tell me not to do this. I didn't listen and maybe I should have. Maybe they were just trying to protect me from this feeling, from these haunting images...but I didn't understand why they just didn't come out and say it. Perhaps there was another reason that was still unknown to me as to why they behaved the way that they did.

Getting lost in one's thoughts made time fly by. Before I knew it, the sounds of battle had stopped. I snapped out of my daze and listened. I wasn't sure if we were successful until I spied our men coming back from the fields. Roe was among them.

I jumped to my feet and started to approach them. Winters immediately began debriefing the officers present while the men sat down to enjoy some well deserved rest and water.

Roe glanced up at my approach and smiled at me. "Jane."

"Hey. How was it?" I asked.

He shrugged. "We lost a guy."

"Who?" I asked.

He replied, "Some guy from Able. I don't really know who he was."

I looked at the men. None of them seemed torn up over this man's death. I asked, "Why was he with you guys, if he was an Able man?"

Roe shrugged again. "I think he and Winters were together after the jump. I think he wanted to help out."

I nodded slowly, piecing the information together. What Eugene said made sense. It was unfortunate that none of the men from Easy had ever met this kid before today, and none of them were interested in mourning him. For some reason, this felt wrong to me.

I didn't get the chance to think things through for very long. We were given orders that we were moving to a small village just outside Brecourt to rest before we would head out.

As we began walking, I asked, "How was your jump?"

Roe looked at me briefly before turning his attention to the path. "As well as could be expected, I suppose."

"Did you...have trouble?" I asked. It felt like a stupid thing to ask, given the fact that we were surrounded behind enemy lines.

He shook his head. "No, not really. I was lucky enough to land nearby some familiar faces."

I felt myself calm slightly from hearing that. "That's good."

He gave me a half smile. "You sound relieved."

"I'm just happy that you made it okay."

"How was your trip in?" Roe asked.

I thought about my answer. What would I tell him, that the explosions in the night sky while he was in a plane was beautiful? Would I tell him about the beaches? I hesitated and he saw it.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me," he stated.

"What?" I asked, blinking out of my thoughts.

He repeated, "You don't have to tell me."

"Oh, it's not that. I just wasn't sure where to start," I lied.

He narrowed his dark eyes at me. "Sure."

He dropped the conversation, never expecting me to reply to his question.

I looked up from the path, watching the men marching and stopped in my tracks. It took me by surprise just how inspiring the men were. They had just jumped from planes in the middle of the night, heavy artillery firing up at them as they descended onto occupied territory. And here they were, marching with their heads held high, ready for action, regardless of how tired they were feeling.

I quickly brought my camera to my face and began snapping pictures of the men as they marched onwards. Roe stopped and waited for me.

I turned around to face the men as they approached me, clicking the shutter as they walked by. They even began smiling for the camera as they saw me.

When I realized that we were now the last people in the group, I lowered the camera, slowly following them with Roe beside me.

"You seemed really into that just now," Roe stated.

I shrugged. "Seemed like something I needed to capture."

Roe asked, "What happens when you run out of film?"

"I'm sure that I'll be sent more," I started to say.

"I know for a while you will, but what happens if they can't deliver those canisters to you? What will you do?" he questioned.

I thought about it for a moment. "I'm not really sure. I guess I've never given it much thought. Why do you ask?"

He shook his head. "Just wondering, that's all."

I could tell that Roe had something he wanted to ask me, but was almost afraid to. I didn't understand why he was afraid to say whatever it was that was on his mind. Instead of asking him to explain himself, I just shrugged it off. I figured that if it was important to him, he'd tell me.

When we stopped in the nearby village to wait for further orders, Roe had left to tend to any who might have been hurt in the last fight. Being by myself felt awkward. I felt like I didn't belong here. The only thing that kept me comfort was taking pictures of the men as they talked to one another, comparing their spoils of war, and sharing their experiences from the jump.

It was at this very moment that I realized that I was and would always be just an observer, witnessing war from a civilian's point of view. At this very moment, I realized that I might just not make it to the end of it and all that would be left of me would be the pictures that I was taking. The camera was an extension of me...my memories in a small green combat camera and several film canisters.


	8. The Part that Hurts the Most

**A/N: *slowly peeks head around the corner* Hey...hi. Sorry that I have been practically MIA for ... well... forever. Life has been crazy busy lately. I feel bad that I haven't updated in quite a while. Hopefully, you guys are still with me. I am hoping to spend some more time writing as things are a bit calmer for now. So...yeah. Anyways...**

 **Thank you Queenie for your review. Sorry it's taking a while to update. Be patient with me! =)**

 **Things are about to take an unexpected turn soon, so get ready. Until then, here's the next chapter. Reviews make for happier days. Enjoy!**

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That night, I scribbled some of the events that happened into my journal. I hadn't been very disciplined in keeping record of the days since training, and I felt like I needed to do a better job at it.

When I heard footsteps approaching me, I glanced up to see Roe stopping and sitting next to me. I closed my journal and tossed it into my bag. "How are you holding up?"

He sighed, leaning his head against the wall of the building we were sitting by. "It's been a really long day."

"I bet. Want to talk about it?" I offered.

He shrugged. "I'm just exhausted, that's all." When I nodded in reply, but said nothing more, he asked, "What were you working on?"

I replied, "Oh, just writing in my journal."

"Yeah? What about?" he asked with genuine interest.

I smirked. "Nothing too personal. Just about how things are going since we got here. My dad told me that it helped him when he served to write things down in a journal to help cope with the situations as they happened. He thought it would come in handy for me."

"Is it?" he asked.

"What?"

"Helping?"

"Oh. Not really. But then again, there hasn't been too much that's happened to me personally to need a paper psychologist," I joked.

Roe chuckled at my bad joke which made me feel a little better about myself. "Well, it's early, yet."

I nodded. "True."

After a moment of awkward silence, I asked, "What did you mean when you asked me what I would do if I ran out of film?"

Roe looked at me confused. "When?"

"Earlier. You had asked me what I planned to do if I ever ran out of film canisters. I was just curious as to why you were wanting to know."

"Oh. Right. Well, it may not have occurred to you, but I have a feeling that I might need an extra hand on the line in the future. I didn't know if you had given any thought to becoming my unofficial nurse for a time."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Didn't I tell you that I had a terrible bedside manner? I'm not very good at nursing people back to health."

He nodded. "I remember, but you wouldn't be nursing them back to health. Think of it as more of a 'patch them up and ship them out' kind of job."

I thought about what he was saying and before I opened my mouth to respond, he held up his hand. "You don't have to answer me right now. I know you have a lot of film in your bag, and will probably get more soon enough. I just thought it would be something you could do to help out...help me out."

I watched as he fidgeted in his spot. I replied, "I'll think about it."

He glanced over at me. "Really?"

I nodded. "Yeah, but don't get your hopes up."

He smiled. "A maybe is good enough for me."

Neither one of us seemed to be tired enough to sleep. Maybe it was the adrenaline of all the events that had happened over the last few days. Whatever the reason was, we sat together and watched the night pass us by. We talked about many things as we watched the sun start to come up, like our families, our childhood, where we grew up and how those things changed as we headed overseas to war. The more he spoke about himself, the more that I realized there was a reason he was chosen to be a medic. He had the ability to comfort and heal those around him, including myself, with just words.

It was at this particular moment, that I started to see Roe as more than just a friend that I met in training who had to examine my eyes several times. He made me feel comfortable and given where we were in the world, that was more than anyone could do for me and I didn't want that feeling to stop.

We talked until the sun came up. We watched as the beautiful sunrise wash over the fields outside of town. It was like the world was new again, but we were quickly reminded that we were not in a fairy tale book when we heard the distant gunshots. Reluctant to return to reality, we rejoined the men in the town square. It was then that we were given our new orders; head to Carentan.

Carentan was important for us, just as it was for the enemy and we knew that the enemy currently held that town. Without it, we wouldn't be able to bring in supplies and men from another beach head. So, out we went to take it over.

As Roe and I started to fall into line, a hand landed on my shoulder, causing us to stop in our tracks.

Turning around, I was face to face with Nixon. "What can I do for you, Nixon?"

He motioned behind him with his thumb. "You're coming with us."

I looked over his shoulder to see a group of officers in a Jeep waiting for us. I brought my attention back to Nixon. "I'm not going with Easy?"

"We are, but you're not going to be heading into Carentan with them. You'll go in with us," he explained.

I turned to Roe who shrugged in response before walking away from us. Glancing back to the Jeep, I sighed but followed Nixon. I felt incredibly guilty for riding in a Jeep on the way to our destination. I wanted to walk with the men. I wanted to stay by Roe, but I was still just an observer with no say. I'm sure that the officers were frustrated that they would have to keep an eye on me since I was considered a liability and civilian.

Nixon explained as we pulled out of the town, "We're going to meet them there. Once there, we'll be able to watch the assault on Carentan and when they succeed in taking over the town, we'll be able to let you rejoin them."

I nodded that I heard him, but that didn't make me any happier about the process in getting to that point. I felt like some teenager being forced to stay home and listen to the radio with their parents instead of going out with friends. How was I supposed to take pictures of the war and show the people back home how things really were, if I was stuck in a Jeep, safe and out of the way? It didn't make sense to me.

Upon arriving at Carentan and getting settled in with the officers in a cushy place overlooking the town, I started taking pictures from my spot. The town itself looked like it was damaged, but not in the sense that a war was taking place. Instead, the town just looked a little unkempt. I took pictures while our men decided how best to approach taking it over and once I saw them moving in, I couldn't click the shutter fast enough.

Within seconds of them rushing down the road, gunfire rained down upon them. I was just as shocked as anyone when that happened and almost dropped my camera. It took every ounce of me to keep from doing something stupid.

I shook as I continued taking pictures of the battle as it started. Pretty soon, I lost sight of all of our men as they had entered into town. I could hear everything as clear as day though.

"Do you see anything?" Strayer asked.

I looked over my shoulder to see Nixon peering through binoculars and Strayer squinting to try and make out anything down there.

Nixon replied, "Nothing yet."

Orders were being shouted from within the town, some in English, some in German. It was clear that there were more German forces in that town than we were originally led to believe.

When the mortars from the outside fields started dropping on the town, I kept taking pictures until I ran out. With shaky hands, I struggled to get the film replaced in my camera with each explosion that went off. I tried to keep my focus on my job and off of the men that I had started to form friendships with...and Roe. I worried what was going on down there might impact Roe in such a way that I might not see him again. It was this realization that I worried that I hadn't told him how I felt even though I worried that such talk was too soon. Maybe it wasn't, but either way, I knew that it was only because I was scared that I was panicking and thinking this way.

Once the film was secured into the camera, I continued taking pictures. When the battle was over and I took a few shots of the town, it was completely unrecognizable. Instead of being unkempt, the whole town looked like it had been through a tornado.

Strayer stood up from his spot. "Let's head on in. Carefully, now. We don't want to paint a target on our chests."

I slowly stood up on my wobbly legs and followed them in, careful as to where I stepped since many of the men on the road were ours. I felt a lump in my throat as I feared for those inside the town, praying all the way that Roe was not among them.

When I glanced up and saw the inside of town, I raised my camera to my face, taking pictures along the way, making sure that I stayed near the officers. There were several holes in the cobblestone streets from the mortars, which were still smoking. Buildings and stone walls were riddled with bullet holes. The dust from the debris and explosions hung in the air, creating almost a fog like sensation. When my viewfinder landed on a familiar frame, I lowered my camera and started to make my approach.

Covered in dust and sweat, Roe looked up at me as he finished bandaging one of the men. "Mind giving me a hand?"

I grabbed the arm of the wounded man and threw it over my shoulder, just as Roe did opposite me. "Where are we going?"

Roe nodded forward. "We've got sort of a makeshift aide station set up over there. We just need to get these guys over there for the transport back to England."

Once we arrived to the makeshift station and the wounded man was put on the floor, I looked at Roe. When our eyes met, he offered a quick smile to let me know that he was okay, busy but okay.

I struggled with my thoughts at this moment. I wanted to help him out, but I didn't know what to do, and I also had my job to do. I could tell he knew I was struggling to decide what to do with myself, so I just left to allow him to do his job without me distracting him or getting in his way.

Outside, I scanned the courtyard...what was left of it. The men were in good spirits considering all they had been through. When my eyes landed on a familiar face, I could see that something wasn't quite right.

When I approached Luz, I asked, "Hey. You okay?"

He blinked up at me. Within a moment of hesitation, he forced a smile before trying to play off whatever was bothering him. "Of course. Never better. Nothing like kicking some major Kraut ass in the morning to make you feel alive."

I saw through his act, even though some of the men passing by cheered at his comment before continuing onwards. I sat next to him in the rubble. "What happened?"

Luz sighed before quietly admitting, "I almost killed a family."

"What?" I asked, unsure if I heard him correctly.

Luz swallowed. "We were clearing the houses...throwing grenades through the windows...but..."

"But?" I pushed.

"I hesitated. There was something that didn't feel right to me...I couldn't do it," he stated. "When I kicked the door in, I saw this family huddled in the corner of the room, staring up at me. They were afraid."

I wrapped my arm around his shoulders. "You did the right thing, Luz."

He released a heavy sigh. "How many other families did we kill today?"

I couldn't answer him. I didn't know what to say. There was nothing that I could say that would make him feel better about himself and his actions on this day. I knew that he would be haunted with the image of this family, huddled in a corner, staring up at him, afraid that he'd shoot them in cold blood. It was written on his face.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. It was the only thing I could think of to say.

He just nodded, throwing his lit cigarette onto the ground in front of him.

We sat there in the rubble, just the two of us, in silence, watching as the men around us laughed and showed off their spoils of war.

I wasn't sure what Luz was thinking but I knew for certain that I was wondering how many families really were still in this town when we came in. When the mortars started to rain down upon the town, how many families were still inside their homes, bracing for the impact? I couldn't imagine how Luz felt, but I was starting to question the logic behind it all. We were supposed to be saving people, but it seemed like maybe we were just as guilty by association.

Before I could continue sorting through my thoughts, I spied one of the officer's assistants. I removed my arm from Luz's shoulders and said, "I'll be right back."

I stood up from my spot next to him and walked over to the assistant. When he saw my approach, he waited for me. "You need something?"

I nodded. "Do you think you can mail some things back to the States for me?"

He slowly nodded as if he were thinking about it. "Sure thing."

"I have some film canisters that need to go to New York. Do you think you can find a box to ship these back?" I asked.

He replied, "I think we have a couple of boxes back at Regiment. I can take them for you. Do you have an address?"

I opened my pack and removed my notebook. Quickly, I scribbled the address down and ripped the page from the binding. "Here. That's where it's going."

He took the paper from me, and the canisters, placing them in his pockets. "I'll get that out as soon as I get back."

"I appreciate it. Thanks," I said.

When I turned around to rejoin Luz, he was already gone. I scanned the courtyard for him, but saw that he had returned to the rest of the men, laughing and cracking jokes. When our eyes met, I knew that he was doing what the thought he could do to move passed today's events. I couldn't blame him.

"You say that you've got a terrible bedside manner, but you seemed to do just fine with Luz," a familiar voice stated behind me.

I smiled as I turned around to face Roe. "I'm a good listener. That's different than bandaging people up and making them feel better."

"Is it?" he questioned.

I smirked. "Should be."

"I think you don't give yourself enough credit," Roe stated honestly.

"How are you doing?" I asked him.

He replied, "As good as I can be."

I raised an eyebrow at his remark.

"I'm just exhausted," he added.

I nodded. "Understandable."

Roe asked, "Take a lot of pictures?"

I sighed. "Too many, I think. I've already asked one of the Privates to send them back to New York. Hopefully, they will send me some more film once they get my package."

"What if they don't?" Roe asked.

I shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it. I'm sure they will send me more though. It's why I'm here."

Before Roe could say anything, we heard a shout from across the courtyard, "Easy Company! Gather 'round!"

We glanced over to see that Welsh was addressing the men.

"Carentan is just as important to them as it is for us, so...we're going to be heading out to secure the outer areas. We are expecting a full counterattack, so be prepared," Welsh explained.

I looked over my shoulder to see the officers off to the side. They were discussing something, but I didn't know what. When I spied Strayer waving me over, I meandered over to him.

"Miss Finley. As you've heard from Lieutenant Welsh over there, we're going to be taking precautions by securing the area for a counterattack. You're going to be joining us," he stated.

"Again?" I blurted out. I didn't mean to say it out loud, but for some reason, it was hard to contain.

"You have a problem with that?" he questioned.

I shook my head. "Sorry. No, sir."

Strayer nodded, eyeing me carefully. "Okay then. Get your stuff. We're moving out into position."

I sighed and turned to talk to Roe. I already had all of my things with me, but I wanted to tell Roe that I'd be stuck with the officers during this process...again.

Roe looked up and met my eyes. He asked, "You okay?"

I shook my head. "I did not sign up to be dragged along by officers and put in a safe place. I mean, how am I supposed to do my job if they keep me far away from everything?"

"To keep you alive...?" Roe said with a hint of a question.

I sighed. "I know. I know. I get it, I do, but...I'm trying to show people back home what is really going on here...How can I do that when I'm always put in a place that-"

"Is keeping you alive?" Roe repeated.

I scoffed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't complain."

Roe shook his head. "I understand you're frustrated, but I think you're overreacting. You'll have a better view from where they will be. Maybe even better pictures from where you sit high up than you would in a muddy foxhole with me."

"I'd rather be in a muddy foxhole with you," I muttered.

Roe looked slightly stunned by my words, but said nothing more on the matter.

I sighed. "I better get going. I'm sure they are getting impatient, waiting for me."

"Jane," Roe said.

"Yeah?"

"Be careful."

"You too. See you later," I replied.

As I walked away, I had to fight the urge to look over my shoulder back at Roe. I had this feeling that if I had turned to look at him one last time before following the officers to our lookout spot, I might not leave. I was feeling like each time we were separated, a piece of me was lost.


	9. The World We View

**A/N: Hey all. I hope you're still reading and following this...Life has been super crazy and it's only going to get busier and crazier with each passing month. I am truly sorry that my updates are so few and far between, and I really hope to be spending some time working on my stories. Just, please, stick with me. I love hearing from all of you.**

 **With that said, thank you queenie and lipamo for your reviews. I'm happy to hear that you're enjoying the story so far.**

 **Here's the next chapter before a random curveball. Enjoy!**

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The trek to our overlook seemed to take forever. It didn't help that the man leading us seemed to be getting lost. It was Nixon who finally took control of the group and got us to where we needed to be. Once we arrived to our position, we could see everything around Carentan and the neighboring fields. We sat upon the hilltop watching as Easy, Fox, and Dog Companies marched through the fields to their positions.

As I sat there, I thought I was feeling sprinkles of rain, but it was so sporadic that I chalked it up to bugs flying about in the long grass. The moment it became more frequent, I realized that we were due for a pretty nasty storm.

Nixon handed me a spare raincoat which I took without hesitation. Instead of actually wearing the coat, I used it over me and my camera and started to take photographs of the men as they marched towards the hedgerows. I managed to snag a photo with all three Companies marching. I just hoped the photo would turn out with all the rain and the darkening light from the clouds.

As I lowered the camera from my face, I watched as some men started running while others were falling to the ground. The moment we heard the gunfire up on our hilltop, we knew that the counterattack had begun.

The rain pelted us as we sat there on our hill, huddled under our raincoats. Lightning lit the sky up while the thunder roared around us. I was thankful that the wind wasn't as bad as it could have been, but it was still early enough to change. There was nothing to do but wait...and I hated waiting.

Nixon sat next to me in the wet weeds and asked over the weather, "How are you holding up?"

I shivered as I met his gaze. "I'm okay."

He asked, "Who ever thought that this was the weather we'd get?"

I chuckled but said nothing. I could tell that Nixon was trying to make me feel more at ease while we were stuck on this hill, but I felt out of place. I knew that the officers didn't want me here, just like several of the men on the line...part of me didn't care, but there was this overwhelming feeling like maybe they were right. Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew and it was impacting all of those around me.

"You're thinking awfully hard about something," Nixon pointed out.

I glanced back at him. "I was just thinking about why I'm here."

"Yeah, why are you here?" he asked.

I replied, "I wanted to show people back home what war was really like."

"You know they film the battles to show people," he started to say.

I nodded. "I also know that they only show you half of a story. I wanted to show people that there was more to it than happy soldiers sipping coffee."

Nixon laughed. "Fair enough."

I asked, "At what point am I going to be on the lines with Easy?"

He looked at me, almost stunned by my question. "I'm not sure."

"You seemed surprised that I'd ask that," I said.

He shrugged. "Not many people would be itching to get on the front lines, in the middle of the battle for a picture."

I smirked. "When you word it like that..."

"Don't rush it. Rushing gets you killed. Just be patient and be thankful you're up this high. You'll be down there with them soon enough. We don't want to find out that we killed a field photographer for...What paper did you say you worked for?" he asked.

"The Times," I answered.

"Right. If you got killed, the headlines would probably be unfavorable for us because we'd be blamed in your death," Nixon stated.

I thought about what he was saying. It made sense. They were being cautious to protect themselves...not just me. It wasn't until this conversation with Nixon that I fully understood why they were doing what they were doing, and I felt incredibly selfish for trying to get on the front lines.

Nixon asked, "Why did you decide to become a field photographer anyways? You could have become a nurse or something a little more safe."

I was reminded of Roe when he asked that question. "I've got terrible people skills to be a nurse."

Nixon laughed. "I guess that is a required skill to have when dealing with wounded."

I smiled at him, thankful that he got my joke. "Seriously though, my father was hurt in a factory and I guess I have this fear of the same thing happening to me. I'm the only one who can provide for my family now, and it seemed like the right thing to do at the time."

"And now?"

"Now...well. I'm still here," I replied with a sigh.

"Aren't we all?" Nixon asked in agreement.

The storm had lifted during the early morning hours. The smell of the wet grass was heavenly to wake up to, but when I remembered where I was, I was hit with a twinge of anxiety.

I sat up and looked over at the officers. They were looking down the hill at the lines, talking amongst themselves. They didn't seem concerned yet, so I had assumed that the battle hadn't started yet.

I saw a canteen lowered down to me. Glancing up, I met the smiling eyes of Nixon. I took his canteen from his out stretched arm. "Thanks."

He sat next to me as I took a big swig. The moment the liquid hit my tongue, I had no choice but to choke down the alcohol that was burning my throat. I coughed loudly a few times, which caused the other officers to glance over at us. With a raspy voice, I squawked, "Went down the wrong pipe."

When the officers turned back to whatever it was they were doing before my near choking experience, I asked, "How about some water?"

Nixon smirked. "Sorry. I thought that was my water." He reached into his bag and produced another canteen. After smelling and confirming that it was water, he handed it to me. "Water."

"Thanks." I took more than just a swig this time as I tried to soothe my raw throat from the Vat 69 that was in the last canteen. I handed it back to him. "What happens when you run out?"

I chose my words carefully because I didn't want him to get into trouble on account of me. He probably didn't mean to hand me his stash, but that didn't stop the accident from happening.

He replied, "I have ways."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm sure you do."

Nixon never had a chance to retort because the ground shook beneath us followed by the echoes of explosions from below.

All the officers, including Nixon had lowered themselves to the ground and pulled out their binoculars to watch the scene below unfold. I pulled out my camera and started to take pictures of the attack. There wasn't much to see, at least there wasn't until the tanks started to level the hedgerows our men were occupying.

It was only after a few minutes did we see an entire Company retreat.

Nixon swore under his breath. "There goes our left flank."

It didn't dawn on me until after the men were out of harms way that I had stopped taking pictures. I was too focused on the terrible fact that Easy Company was getting left behind. They weren't falling back when everyone else was. I could feel myself shaking with fear, just thinking about how they might not make it out of this one.

When one of the other officers announced, "Here comes the Armored!"

Nixon elbowed me. "Cavalry's here. You can rest easy now."

Even seeing the Armored Division swoop in to help them out, it didn't make me relax in the slightest. I watched from above as they were able to push the enemy back, but I worried what it was like for the men down in the hedgerows while the trees were being blown up all around them.

When it was all over, I sat up next to Nixon. Nixon muttered, "Here we go..."

I turned to see one of the commanding officers from the unit who retreated during the attack slowly making his approach. The moment Strayer's eyes landed on the man, you could tell that there was going to be hell to pay.

"What the hell do you think you were doing, soldier? Who gave the order to retreat?" Strayer began yelling at the man.

I looked at Nixon who just motioned for me to follow him. I asked as we were getting further from the argument, "Where are we going?"

"I figured we could head down there and lend a hand," Nixon stated as we began the trek down the hill towards the line.

As we got further from our overlook, the less we could hear Strayer yelling at the men. Once completely out of earshot, Nixon released a chuckle. "You know, you think he was taking it personally, what with being up above the battle and all - safe and out of the way."

I smiled, but didn't say anything. I didn't know him or Strayer all that well to be giving my two cents worth, even if it was all in fun. When we arrived to the hedgerow, my smirk had completely disappeared from my face. Trees were obliterated. The ground was smoking from the impact of the rounds shot out by the tanks. Men were groaning in pain, while some smoked cigarettes and packed up their things in preparation of moving onwards.

Nixon waved across the field to Winters and Speirs. My eyes fell upon Roe who was busy at work, bandaging up a fellow soldier who got caught in the crossfire. Instead of following Nixon, I headed over to Roe. He never saw my approach. "Hey."

He quickly glanced up at me, before returning to the task at hand. "Hey yourself."

"That was a hell of a battle from up there...and judging by the looks of things down here, I can't even believe that you guys stuck around," I said. It was after I spoke that I realized that I sounded like a moron. I suddenly wished I could take back my words.

Roe nodded. "Yeah. Hell of a fight. Mind giving me a hand with this?"

I bent down next to him and waited for instructions. He handed me the wrappings he was using to secure the bandage to the wounded man's leg. I started to wrap it around until I ran out. Roe removed his hand from within the wrappings and started tying it up.

"Thanks."

"Welcome..." I muttered. I felt awkward. He was so focused in what he was doing, that I probably shouldn't be taking it personally, but there was a part of me that felt like he was angry with me for being up on top of the hill. Maybe I was reading too much into this.

Roe looked over his right shoulder and shouted to two men standing about. "Hey! He's ready to go!"

The men meandered over, lifting the wounded man up, and carried him away. Roe stood up, wiping his hands on his thighs to remove what blood was lingering behind. I asked, "Are you okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Another day." He shrugged at me.

I glanced down at my feet and when I raised my head, he had walked away from me to continue checking other men. I stood there watching him leave. It was after he began working on another wounded soldier that I pulled my camera out and started taking pictures of the hedgerow and the damage the tanks had caused. I took pictures of the men after the battle, some of whom were excited to still be alive, while others were arguing over who killed more Germans.

I shifted my attention back to Roe as he treated men. I began taking numerous pictures of him as he worked. It was at this moment, I saw how much he cared for those around him. It was almost as if he felt their pain as he touched them. I had never in my life witnessed love of another human life until I watched Roe through my viewfinder.

My camera clicked, letting me know that I had used my film up and that I would need to replace the spent roll within it. I knelt down and began digging through my pack for an unused canister. I counted how many I had. There were three unused canisters left. I hoped that my boss back in New York would keep true to his word and send me more as soon as possible. I was beginning to feel that the most important parts of my mission here was coming up and I didn't want to miss anything.

The days after that battle in the hedgerow, we waited for orders on where to go. When we were told of a possible outpost within nearby forestry, a small band of soldiers were ordered to take it out while the rest of Easy Company, myself included, waited outside as reinforcements should they need it.

The forest itself was quiet. There was the occasional sound of birds singing and squirrels at play, but for a forest, there wasn't much happening in way of sounds. I whispered to Roe who sat next to me on the ground, "How long do you think we'll be waiting?"

Roe shrugged. "As long as it takes, I suspect."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He met my eyes with his dark ones. "Fine. Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Because you've been really distant lately...at least with me. Did I do something wrong?" I asked.

He shook his head, but I could tell he was afraid to tell me something. Maybe he didn't want to tell me in front of the men. I let loose a sigh and nodded, dropping the questions. This was the reason that I didn't want to assume there was anything between us. He was giving me a cold shoulder, and I didn't understand why. Sometimes, I felt like the men were more hormonal that me at times.

Roe whispered, "It's just been a rough few days."

"I get that, I do. But you have to talk to me..."

He looked at me again, so I added, "Well, you don't _have_ to talk to me, but it'd be nice if you _did_ talk to me."

He smiled. "Some of the men-"

"They need a medic! Roe! Go! Now!" Winters shouted at him.

Roe didn't hesitate. He jumped to his feet and took off. It happened so fast that I blinked and he was gone.

The moment the order for a medic had come to us, the men started muttering amongst themselves about who might have been the unfortunate one to get hit. They began speculating how badly it was.

The chatter ceased the moment a Private from Colonel Sink's men approached Winters and said, "You're pulling out. You're being taken off the line."

Winters glared at the kid in disbelief. He nodded and replied, "Understood." He sighed and ordered a couple of men to follow him as he headed into the woods to tell the rest of the men that they were moving out.

Had that order come a couple minutes sooner, I wondered if the wounded man that Roe was attending to now would be fine...quite possibly even alive if he were dead. I wondered how hard this would hit Roe.

We sat there in silence for the next few minutes until Winters came back with a few more men than he had left with. He ordered everyone to start heading back. I glanced over my shoulder into the woods behind us and hoped to spy Roe as we left.


	10. Sea of Faces

**A/N: Hello my lovely readers! I've actually got a moment in my busy life to post another chapter well before three months or however long it's been before. Yay for the little things!**

 **So here we have the twist and frankly, where things start to become much more interesting (I think).**

 **Thank you queenie for your review. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I also hope everyone is still keeping up with me, even with the longer breaks of updating!**

 **Here's the next installment. Enjoy. Reviews make for happier days!**

* * *

Cold enveloped me. Smoke invaded my lungs, making it harder to breathe. The world around me was shaking, sending vibrations throughout my body. I forced my eyes open only to see planes overhead in the dark sky. Sporadic gunfire could be heard in the distance. I blinked a few times, trying to remember where I was. Then I had a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Bolting upright, I screamed, "Renee!"

I could see the cathedral a few meters before me. I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain that was sent screaming down my body, and ran towards the burning entrance. The moment I reached the steps, I shouted again, "Renee!"

I was about to rush inside, but I froze when I heard a voice behind me. "Halt!"

My breath hitched as I slowly turned around. Standing behind me was a group of armed German forces staring at me. I quickly counted them. There were six. Too many to outrun.

The man who stood in front of the rest, took another step forward, motioned for me to approach him. "Come here."

I hesitated. I wasn't sure what to do. I feared that if I didn't obey, they'd shoot me on site. If I obeyed, what would make me think they'd do anything differently?

The man motioned for me again. "Come here."

When I stared at him again, I could see the men with the guns tightening their hold and starting to raise the guns up towards me. I took a cautious step forward.

"Are you hurt?" the man asked. I furrowed my brow at him. I didn't understand why it mattered to him if I was hurt or not. During my thinking, he demanded, "Answer me."

I shook my head.

Movement to my left caught my attention. When I turned to see who it was coming up next to me, I felt searing pain across my temple and the world faded to black once again.

My head throbbed as I started to come to. It didn't help that I was being jostled around either. I blinked myself awake and started to slowly sit up. I could hear the truck shifting gears and knew that I had been taken prisoner. I sat upright, still holding my pounding head. I felt the bruise and the small cut from the hit that I took back in Bastogne.

"How are you feeling?" a familiar voice asked.

I glanced up and met the eyes of Fritz. "I've been better."

"You've got a nasty bump there," he replied, pointing to my head, like I didn't already know.

I ignored the comment and asked, "What's happening? Where are you taking me?"

"You have to believe me when I tell you that you're going to be all right," he stated. He was so confident in his statement, I wanted to believe him. He seemed pretty convincing.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"I'm not doing anything. This isn't my choice. I tried to let you go back with your men," Fritz stated. "Fate had something else in mind."

I murmured, "I doubt 'fate' had anything to do with it."

I quickly glanced about the back of the truck. I sat with Fritz and four of the armed men I saw outside the cathedral. I knew the other two, including the one who spoke to me before, were up front.

"Jane, believe me. You're going to be okay. You're not in any danger," Fritz said again, trying to reassure me.

I refused to speak anymore to him. I reached for my bag, but realized it was missing. One of the men must have it.

In this moment, I began to worry what was to become of me. I was so far from home, so far from the men of Easy, I feared that I would become just another lost soul in a sea of faces. I couldn't remember much about what I was told before I came out to Europe about the Germans, and I especially couldn't remember about what was said other than they were the enemy when we got here, so for me to determine how things were going to go was pointless.

I suddenly felt a pang of guilt for not allowing Anna to work with me to help me remember what I couldn't. Maybe if I had, I wouldn't be in the back of this truck going to God knows where. Maybe I'd be back on the line with Easy.

The thought of Anna made me remember when the barrage at Bastogne happened. She was running and a shell blew her through a wall. I remembered she was okay, but I don't know if she ever fully escaped.

I started crying immediately when I recalled Renee standing in the foyer of the cathedral, shuffling the wounded out. Our eyes had locked. After that, I don't remember much. I feared that she was dead, especially after watching the flames in the foyer when I had run back there. I prayed that I was wrong, that she had escaped before the fire. The worst part was not knowing for certain.

When the truck started to slow down, I peered out the back of the truck, hoping to see anything that might tell me where we were. All I could see was snow. Lots of snow and trees. There were a few German troopers walking about as well, but nothing to identify a location. Until I stepped outside of the truck, I wouldn't know if I was in a town or camp.

I could hear shouts from around the truck. Fritz looked at me and said once more, "You're going to be okay. I promise."

I was about to retort when the men from the front of the truck stood at the back, ordering everyone out. The armed men behind me in the truck nudged me, pushing me to my feet and forcing me to jump out of the truck.

Once I landed on my feet, I felt hands wrap around my arms. Two of the armed men were holding me still. I wasn't about to try and flee. That would be suicide given all of the enemy troopers around me carrying weapons.

My eyes landed on the obvious leader of the group. He had my bag slung over his shoulder. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Come with me. We'll get you someplace warm to sleep."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why? Aren't I your prisoner?"

"Yes, but I'm hoping that by treating you with respect, you'll return the gesture when the time comes," he replied, motioning me to follow. When we walked around towards the front of the truck, my eyes landed on a small town encircled by forest. There was no saying where I was.

I was released by my guards, but was still followed closely by them. I walked slightly behind the leader. "What do you want from me?"

"We'll have plenty of time to talk later. For now, I think you're tired, yes? After some time to rest and eat, we'll talk," he stated with a smile. I frowned.

There was something about the way they were treating me that made me realize that they were up to something. I couldn't place my finger on what, but I was aware of how dangerous this situation was becoming. If they were hoping to get vital information from me regarding...well, pretty much anything that I couldn't remember, then I was as good as dead. I was mentally preparing myself for the inevitable, preparing myself for the deadly truth that I wasn't going to survive, and I would never see Roe or any of the others again.

We stopped in front of a building and the leader opened the front door, motioning me to walk in first. I hesitated and he shrugged his shoulders, stepping over the threshold first. I was reluctant, but followed anyways. Once inside the warm house, I quickly glanced about. The quaint house was filled with lots of ornate furniture and beautiful paintings that I had never seen before.

"Would you like something to drink?" the leader asked as he motioned towards the kitchen. I shook my head, even though my throat was dry and tasted like smoke. He must have seen through my lie and handed me a glass of water anyways. "Drink. You'll feel better."

I took the crystal glass from his hand. "Nice things for such a small and poor village."

He chuckled. "These things don't belong to the locals. Our officers prefer items of luxury, so we've brought our things to make our stay more enjoyable."

"And where is that, exactly?" I pondered out loud.

He smirked at my question. "Nowhere that is of concern to you right now." He motioned for me to sit down, and I had no choice but to oblige.

Once I was sitting, he sat across from me. He took my bag off his shoulder and sat it down on the table beside him. My eyes were fixed on it, wondering if everything was still inside.

"You're a photographer," he spoke. It wasn't a question, but a fact. He had riled through my things and either deduced that this was fact, or he read my journal. Either way, I waited for him to continue.

"You see, I think we could use you," he said, sipping from his glass. "We Germans have been given quite the bad rap since this war started. I want you to make it right."

"What are you talking about?" I questioned. He wasn't making sense to me.

"In exchange for you taking pictures of life from our point of view, we will treat you as a guest, food, water, bed-"

"Guards?" I asked, knowing the answer.

"I will have two following you. Fritz and one more," he stated. "Fritz is someone you've become friends with, it seems."

"I don't know about that," I muttered.

The man smiled. "Come now. He's been honest with you this whole time. He did want to leave you behind for your men to find you."

"Then why didn't you?" I asked.

He sighed. "I'll be honest. Your photography skills were unknown to me until the ride over here. We were originally going to take you prisoner and demand information regarding your men and their whereabouts, but as some of your journal entries have stated, and from Fritz's own confessions, you don't remember anything."

"So what's the point? Why keep me here if you have no need for me?" I asked.

The man sipped his water again before stating, "Unfortunately, my superior is expecting results. Let me be frank with you, Jane. The men here right now, will not harm you in anyway. We're not like the rest of them. However, if you refuse to help us or answer any questions we might have, they will send someone worse."

"Worse?" I interrupted.

"Worse," he repeated solemnly. "Your life would be in grave danger, should they send someone else here to get what they want from you. I'd personally like very much that that not happen, but it all depends on you."

"What use will I be for you if I can't remember anything? You've read my journal. You know that I have no memory of anything," I pointed out.

He stood up from his chair, walking over to refill his water. "You don't really have much choice, Jane. I'm sorry, but you will have to cooperate eventually, whether with me or with someone-"

"Worse," I recalled. "Yeah, I got that."

The man set his glass down and said, "With that out of the way, we'll show you to your room. Come first light, we will have another chat."

I stood up, leaving my water glass behind untouched, and followed them up the stairs of this house to the place that would become my prison.


	11. So Cold

**A/N: Hey there...Hi. Yes, I'm still alive. I am so sorry that I haven't updated in what seems like an eternity. Life has gotten much more complicated as of late, so, you're just going to have to forgive me there. I am trying to get as much writing in as possible so that I can update the story for you, as much as possible. I apologize now for the short chapters that may become the new norm for me. At least you'll get something, right? I hope that's all right. Ha. Not much to be done if it's not...I'm rambling and am in need of more coffee...**

 **Anyways...**

 **Thank you to Queenie and Guest(s){There were three of you, so...maybe one person, perhaps 3...either way} Thank you for your reviews. I appreciate hearing from you, as always.**

 **So, here's the next chapter. It's short, but it'll have to do.**

 **Reviews make for happier days! Enjoy!**

* * *

The next morning, I woke to the sound of heavy footsteps approaching my door. I bolted upright and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for whoever was outside to enter. They never did. I could see the shadows of someone standing there, but was surprised that they hadn't entered.

I stood up from the bed, fixing my appearance slightly, and approached the door. I turned the handle and found it unlocked. I slowly opened the door, peering outside to see Fritz and an older man standing in the hallway.

Fritz offered a smile, which I ignored. He asked, "How did you rest?"

"Fine, thanks," I muttered, trying to keep from looking at him. I was mad at him. I felt betrayed and a small part of me thought I was being unfair to him. His story was confirmed by the leader of this little outpost village. I just couldn't get past it, for whatever reason.

The older man stood before me, uniform barely fitting anymore, wrinkles covering his tired face heavily, and he had numerous medals overlapping one another on the left side of his coat. The medals were so many and so heavy, they were bringing his jacket down on the left. It made him look uneven, or hunchbacked, even.

His eyes were filled with sadness when he looked at me. I had never seen such a man with so much emotion, mostly sad and loneliness, fill his face. There was a story behind that gaze, and I wondered if I'd even find out what it was.

Fritz cleared his throat. "Captain Utzig is expecting you for breakfast downstairs."

I looked over at Fritz. "And if I refuse?"

"I wouldn't recommend that," he stated, motioning me to head down the stairs.

I sighed and followed the orders given.

Once we were downstairs, I spied several other German troopers stationed by doors, all at attention, carrying weapons. None of them looked at me or acknowledged my presence.

The moment I was off the last step, I heard a familiar voice calling for my attention. "Ah! There you are. Please, join me."

I glanced over my right shoulder to see Utzig standing at the same desk he was when I last saw him. I crossed the threshold of the room and stood before the desk. He motioned for me to sit, which I did reluctantly.

He sat down in his chair and motioned to the scones in front of him. "Please, help yourself."

I shook my head. "No thanks."

"Suit yourself then," he replied back, with a curt tone. I knew that I was probably making things worse for myself by behaving in such a way, but I wasn't willing to trust anything he was offering. It almost felt like anything he wanted to give me had some kind of strings attached to it. The less I could take from him, the better I'd be...at least, that's what I was thinking.

He riled through some papers, signing off on some before speaking. "I trust you slept well?"

I studied his movements as I responded, "Fine, thanks."

He glanced up briefly before continuing with his work. "You can have this back."

He reached down beside him and revealed my pack. He placed it in front of me on the desk. When I picked it up, it felt lighter. I opened the flap to see a lot of items missing, including my journal. "Where's the rest of my stuff?"

"Oh, I'll be holding onto that for a while yet," he explained, still working on paperwork.

"For what purpose?" I questioned. It wasn't like it was filled with top secret information. In fact, it was filled with ramblings from a woman who didn't have a clue in the world where she was, let alone who she was. It didn't seem like there was anything inside that would be worth noting on his part.

He cleared his throat before setting his pen down to give me his full attention. "We need to go through it more thoroughly and find information that is of use to us."

"You've already read through it. You've already told me that it was filled with nothing," I pointed out.

"Yes, I did. And while that may still be true, I have my orders," he stated, picking up his pen and continuing with his work.

"Will you give it back?" I asked.

"Eventually."

"So what is it that you want from me?" I asked.

He replied, "We've provided you with several more film canisters and your camera. You're going to take pictures of the men around here, the things that go on, and report back to me every night."

"That's it? You want me to take pictures of your men? For what purpose?" I asked.

"We've already discussed this, but I suppose I can 'jog' your memory," he said with a heavy and annoyed sigh. Looking up at me, he crossed his hands on his desk. "We want the world to know that we aren't all evil, like your papers state we are. We are quite normal. We have tea like any other civilized culture. We read, we pray, we eat. We follow orders because that's what we are made to do. It's just time someone out there showed our story as unbiased as they do your men."

I inhaled deeply before asking, "And what are you going to do with the film once I've taken the photos you want?"

"Develop them. We've already started working on the film you've used in hopes that it will give us something we want. Maybe if you do a good job and you behave, we will show you the photos. They might help with your memory. Until then, you will be expected to take as many pictures as possible throughout the day," he stated.

"Seems like a waste of film," I replied. "You want me to use a whole canister every day?"

"You might think it a waste, Ms. Finley, but I assure you, it's better than the alternative."

"And what's that?" I pondered.

Utzig started to show signs of sheer annoyance at this point. I could tell that I was becoming close to the edge of his good side and I had to watch myself before he reacted in a negative way. He said, "I am trying my best to give you a chance to do the right thing without having to use drastic measures. If you were a man, we'd have started torture on you the moment you stepped foot into this town. I'd much rather not see that happen. The more you cooperate, the easier it will be for everyone, especially you. Now, if you fail to do as you're told, and you find that you'd much rather be treated as the prisoner you are, we can accommodate you and bring in someone much less forgiving than me. Personally, I'd hate to see that happen. So please, for your sake, just do as I ask. Take the damn pictures."

I swallowed. This was the first time since I've met him that he actually scared me. I believed him when he said that he'd torture me and bring in someone much less obliging than him. What I didn't understand was why he was so desperate for his side of the story to be out there. There had to be something he wasn't telling me.

I took my pack and slung it over my shoulder. As I stood up, Utzig added, "I will see you tonight. Don't disappoint me, Jane. It would be a tragic mistake on your part."

I stared at him one last time, watching him work on paperwork before turning back to my escorts who led me to the cold world outside.


	12. The Outside

**A/N: Hey, look! I'm updating! I know, I know, about time, right? I am hoping to get more chapters up soon. Life is just kind of crazy when you have two kids under two...  
**

 **Anyways...**

 **Thank you Mar and Marol (possibly the same person?) for your reviews. I'm glad you are enjoying the story.**

 **Here's the next update. I hope you enjoy! Reviews make for happier days!**

* * *

Outside in the cold, I released a heavy sigh. Fritz said, "Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

I turned to face him, slightly glaring at him for his remark. I knew by the way he said it that he was trying to lighten the intense mood that had fallen over me, but I didn't appreciate it. I was still trying to work things out in my mind; I certainly didn't need sarcasm on my plate too.

Fritz suggested, "Why don't we start on the Eastern end of town? There are a lot of men over there with interesting stories."

"I'm not writing an article. I'm taking pictures. I couldn't give a damn about their stories," I snapped.

Fritz sighed. "Look, I know you're mad at me. I understand, but I'm trying to help you here. I don't want to see you carted off like so many others and tortured."

"How many others?" I asked. I could see it in his eyes that there was indeed something more going on here.

He hesitated but eventually he whispered, "There've been many. Most of the people in this town, in fact. Others from outside this town running to family to flee... women, children, all of them."

"Where are they taken?" I asked.

Fritz shook his head. "I don't know. Different places. Sometimes families are separated before they are carted off."

Judging by the look on his face, I could see how much he hated what had happened to those families. I asked, "Is this why you tried to run away?"

His eyes darted around us, hoping no one was within ear shot. "Ssh! Do you want me to get shot?"

I furrowed my brow at him. Of course I didn't want him to get shot...not really. He sighed and said, "Yes. That's partly why I...took a long walk."

I rubbed my forehead before saying, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

He nodded. "It's okay, but please...just...for me... don't make any mistakes that might have you going to wherever the Hell those people were taken. They never come back."

"Are you saying that some do?" I questioned.

He nodded slightly. "Sometimes a woman or two show up that was carted off, but they are only ever here for a day or two before being sent back."

"Why would they bring women back here?" I asked. I felt stupid the moment the question left my mouth. It was almost as if my brain had suddenly connected the dots once the question was said.

Fritz shrugged. "You know how lonely it can be on the lines; how lonely men are without the comfort of a woman's embrace."

Internally, I chuckled at his naivety. The women weren't just 'holding' the men. I wondered if I'd ever see any of these women during my stay here, however long that was to be. I began to fully understand where this was going and how serious the situation that Fritz, and Utzig, were trying to prevent me from experiencing. At this moment in time, the only thing that would potentially save me was my camera and the film they had given me.

I pulled out my camera, took a picture of Fritz to make sure there was film loaded, and asked, "So...you said start in the Eastern part?"

Fritz had a wave of relief wash over him as he nodded, smiling at me. "Yeah. This way."

I followed Fritz through the village, with our old gimpy friend following behind.

I was continued walking towards the far end of the village, I looked behind me to the old soldier who followed us. I turned my attention to Fritz. "What's his story?"

Fritz looked at me, somewhat surprised that I was suddenly interested in making conversation. He glanced over his shoulder to see the older man behind us before saying, "Oh, Styne. He's a good man."

I asked, "How old is he?"

"Old enough."

"I'm guessing he's served his whole life?" I asked.

Fritz nodded. "Yeah. Since he was about twelve."

"Twelve?" I questioned. I couldn't imagine being enlisted in the military at such a young age. When I was twelve, I was busy with school and chores. It was amazing to me to think of living this kind of life and never knowing anything else. It explained all of his medals on his chest in which he wore proudly.

Fritz stated, "He's one of the best people here. Always quiet, unless he has something important to say. So, if you ever have the privilege to hear his voice, take his words seriously. He's a wise man."

I nodded as I thought about him. There was a sad story behind that wrinkled face and sad eyes. I wondered if I'd ever hear about it.

We reached the far end of the village and I found myself drawn to the architecture of the buildings. I started taking pictures of them and had to stop after the first few. I knew that Captain Utzig would not be happy with me should he develop the film to only find photo after photo of buildings instead of his men. I sighed, lowering the camera from my face. I glanced about the area but didn't see many men about, and certainly no one worthy of being photographed.

Fritz asked, "What are you waiting for?"

"People. Inspiration. It's not like I want to just waste the film just so that I can hand over a full canister to Utzig. Where is everyone?" I asked.

Fritz looked at his watch. "Some are probably eating, others are probably in bed."

"Bed? Still?" I asked.

He smirked. "I doubt they're sleeping."

I furrowed my brow at him. It was a confusing statement to hear, but I remembered him saying something earlier about how women were brought in to 'entertain' the men. Maybe this is what he was talking about.

Fritz motioned to a bench nearby. "Maybe we should sit for a while until people start waking up. You can have some breakfast while we wait."

I replied, "I didn't bring anything with me."

"That's okay. I did," he said. "Old habit to carry something with me at all times, just in case I get separated."

 _Or go AWOL,_ I thought to myself. We sat down and he handed me a small bun to eat. It was rock hard and cold, but it was food. I nibbled at pieces I ripped away from it.

As I sat there chewing, Styne stood a few feet away from us, slightly hunched over on his rifle. I took this moment to capture his likeness. The way he was standing, the look on his face...it showed me someone who was desperate for this war to be over so that he could go home. He looked as though he was ready for a long rest from service. I took my camera and took a couple of pictures of him. When he noticed that I was taking pictures of him, he stood straighter - as straight as he could manage - and I took another one to make him feel better. I wanted to get a closer image of his face, but Fritz spoke, breaking my concentration.

"Looks like they are waking."

I looked around to see a few men emerging from the houses. They were dressed in their uniforms which looked fresh and new. Within a few seconds of them exiting the house, a couple of women followed behind them.

I couldn't help but stare at them. They were ragged and looked broken. I took a few pictures of them. It was awkward to see men who were so clean and properly dressed standing next to women who had clearly been abused and taken advantage of. They were so dirty that I was surprised that these men would even touch them.

Another thing I had noticed about these women were how skinny they were. It looked as though they hadn't eaten in weeks, perhaps even longer. Their clothes barely fit their frames. I felt so sorry for them. I was positive in my thinking that had I seen them before the war started, those women would have been absolutely stunning - full frame with meat on their bones, hair and make up done, smiles on their faces - but that was a long time ago.

With each picture that I took of them, I began to wonder if Utzig was going to be mad at me for focusing more of my attention of the women and their officers than Utzig's men overall. He wanted me to capture images that would show the world that they aren't so different than any of us, but it was hard to ignore this moment. It was something that may never be shown to the world, and I knew that these pictures had a high possibility of being burned after being developed, but I didn't care. I felt the need and responsibility to share these women's story, even if it ended up becoming a sad memory.

Fritz asked, "Are you ready to move on?"

I lowered the camera from my face and watched as the women were ushered towards the train car. As they began to pass by us, I extended my hand to the woman closest to me. She quickly glanced down to my hand to see the bun I was offering to her and her friend.

In a moment's hesitation, she glanced at the officers escorting her, then back to my hand. She snatched the bun and hid it in her dress as she continued to follow behind them.

Fritz exhaled loudly. "Shouldn't have done that."

"I wasn't going to eat any more of it. They clearly needed it more than me," I replied.

"And if they are discovered with it, they could be severely punished or killed," Fritz pointed out.

I whirled my head over to him. "They'd kill those women for having food that I gave them?"

"You forget that they are prisoners. They aren't allowed anything unless one of the officers are ordered to give it. I wouldn't make a habit of providing them with food anymore," Fritz warned.

I instantly felt responsible for the possible demise of those women. I prayed that they wouldn't be caught with the bun because then their blood would be on my hands which is ironic given how Utzig swears they are not different from any of us on the Allied side, but hearing about this made me realize that what he was saying all this time was a dark lie.


	13. Just A Feeling

**A/N: First of all, let me just say thank you for being so patient with me, sticking with me and continuing to read my work. I really do appreciate your time and dedication to me and my stories. I know that my updating isn't as quick as it used to be and that the chapters are smaller too. A lot of you have asked me in private messages, so I will go ahead and post it here in case anyone else is wondering the same thing, but the reason behind the longer update times and the shorter chapters is because I have two kids under two. I barely have time to take care of myself most days, let alone think about the idea of writing. I haven't given up on writing, and I will be continuing to write, but please be patient as my time to write is pretty minimal these days. That being said, I have other stories in my mind that I want to write, so it's not the end once this one is finished. So please, continue being patient for me and I will do my best to update and write as much as I can with the little time I have available. Thank you for understanding. =)**

 **Also, thank you for the reviews and messages. I really do enjoy hearing from you all. I hope this chapter will keep you coming back for whenever the next update is.**

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That evening, I was brought back into Utzig's office. The soldiers that stood close by approached me. Without saying a word or even waiting on orders from Utzig, who sat at his desk doing what looked like busy work, took my camera and other belongings off of me. They approached Utzig and set my things on his desk before returning to their post in the corners of the room.

Utzig didn't look up from his papers. "How did your first day go?"

I eyed the men in the corners carefully. "Fine."

"What inspired you today?"

"What?" I asked. The question confused me.

Utzig finally glanced up at me. "What inspired your photos?"

I couldn't believe that he was asking me about inspiration. Honestly, I didn't have any. It was pretty much a 'take pictures or else' kind of situation. I knew that he wasn't looking for that kind of answer, so I replied, "Life."

He smiled. "Life?"

I nodded. "There's a lot of it here."

"How do you mean?" he questioned, setting his pen down. I suddenly had his full attention, and I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

I could tell that he was testing me. He wanted to see if I was truly taking him seriously, his threats, his demands. I knew I had to tread carefully. "Your men are very..."

I could see Fritz out of the corner of my eye silently pleading for me to be careful where I was taking this.

"Optimistic," I finished. I knew that wasn't the word that I wanted to say, but I could see Fritz relax a little, so maybe Utzig won't keep pushing me to explain.

"Optimistic?"

I nodded, silently praying that he would just move on already.

He raised an eyebrow at me, glanced between me and Fritz before searching through my things. He removed my camera and asked, "So, I suspect that you used all of the film today since you saw so much...optimism?"

I swallowed. I suddenly couldn't remember if I had used all the film or not. Utzig saw my hesitation.

"Well? Did you use the entire roll?" he demanded.

I tried to remember if the camera had clicked and if I had rewound the film. As I was lost in memory of the days events, Fritz cleared his throat. "Yes sir. She did. I have the roll right here."

Utzig smiled as he held out a flat palm. "Thank you. I'll take that."

Fritz handed over the film to his commanding officer. Utzig snapped his fingers and a new soldier had appeared. The new man was holding a folder under his right arm. He saluted, handed off the folder, took the spent film, and left without speaking a word.

Utzig motioned for me to approach his desk. I stood before him and waited uncomfortably. I wasn't sure what was in the folder, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that it wasn't going to be good.

He casually opened the folder and inside I could see photos, but I couldn't make them out as to what they were. That is, until he picked one up, turned it around, and tossed it onto my end of the desk for me to see. He asked, "Mind explaining what that is?"

The photograph before me was a picture of a rather unhappy Sobel glaring at me, while the rest of Easy Company smiled on. I stared at the black and white photo. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" he repeated.

I shook my head. "No. I don't know what this is."

"Those are your men, are they not?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yes."

"Did you take this photo?" he questioned, his tone getting more sharp with each word.

I shook my head with a little bit of a shrug. "I don't know. I mean- I don't remember taking it. I'm sure that I did but-"

He cut me off. "It came from the film that was in your bag, so of course you took it. Now, explain to me what is going on here."

I let out a heavy and defeated sigh. I glanced over at Fritz, worried about what might happen if I couldn't answer the question.

Utzig saw the glance and said, "He won't be able to help you this time. I'm waiting."

I swallowed. "It's...They're training."

"Why are they smiling? Are they always this cheerful when training?" he mocked me in his question.

I shook my head. "No, but most of the time, when someone sees a camera, people tend to smile."

I hoped that he wouldn't see through my lies. I had no idea what was going on, hell, I didn't remember taking the picture. I couldn't even begin to point out half of the men and name them. I was lucky that I could remember Sobel's name, even if I didn't want to.

Utzig tossed another picture towards me. "What about this one? Who's he?"

The picture before me was that of a familiar face. Eugene. A wave of emotions and images rushed through my being.

Given my expression, Utzig said, "Clearly you know this man."

I nodded. "He's a friend."

I wanted to be as generic as I possibly could. I didn't want them knowing anything about him. Not if I could help it.

"What's his name?"

"Why do you need to know?" I asked.

Utzig glared at me. "Answer the question."

"Not until you tell me why you need to know his name."

"You don't want to push me, Jane. I can find out one way or another, but let's make this easier on both of us, shall we? His name. Now."

I clenched my teeth. "Roe."

"What's his rank?"

"He's our medic."

Utzig nodded. "Was he there at Bastogne with you?"

I saw a window of opportunity and I wasn't about to waste it. "Yes. He was."

"Did he make it out?"

"I doubt it."

Utzig nodded and picked up the picture of Roe. He glanced over it one more time before handing it back to me. "For keepsakes."

I snatched the photo from his grasp and held onto it tightly. I didn't look at it again because I was afraid I might give myself up.

He tossed another photo in front of me. "Explain."

I looked at each photograph that he tossed on the desk. Some were easier to explain than others. I had lied about the majority of them, but there were some that I just couldn't lie about without getting caught. As far as I knew, there wasn't anything in those photos or what I said about them that would make me a traitor. At least, I was hoping that was the case.

Utzig stated," You may go to bed now, Jane. I'll see you in the morning with a new canister of film."

I turned and followed Fritz and Styne up the stairs to my room.

Once the door closed behind me, I sat on the edge of the rickety bed and looked down at the photo in my hands. Staring back at me were the kind eyes of Roe. I traced the outline of his jaw. I recalled the moment the picture was taken almost like it was yesterday.

He had overheard that Sobel was mad at me for taking pictures of them training on Currahee and wanted to get rid of me or smash my camera. Knowing Sobel, it was probably going to be both. Eugene had managed to find me first and hide me away in his secret place, the place he would go to pray or reflect on why he was even there. It was the first time that he had shared something so personal with me and I promised to never share it with anyone.

His secret place would be the meeting spot for a lot of our meet ups. We would spend any free time he had there, talking about life back home, what we were doing before the war started, and what we hoped our future would be like when it was all over. It was there that we shared a lot of personal things about one another and I remembered feeling like there was a special bond between us. A bond that was unexplainable but it was comfortable.

I took the picture right before he took me to see the ravine with the river. The memories of that day came rushing back, and I held onto the picture and the feeling of his kiss the rest of the night.


	14. Running Out of Time

**A/N: Hey all. Thank you for your messages and follows. I appreciate it!**

 **Here's the next chapter. Reviews make for happier days. Enjoy.**

I woke to the warmth of the sun hitting my face through the window. I sat up, still holding the photo of Roe. I took one last look at it before folding it up and placing it inside my coat pocket next to my breast. I didn't want to leave it behind for someone to take or destroy. It would never leave me as long as I could help it.

I stood up, straightening my coat as I headed for the door. When I opened the door, I was greeted by the familiar faces of Fritz and Styne who both smiled warmly at me.

"Ready for another day?" Fritz asked.

I shrugged. "Like I have much choice."

He motioned for me to walk in front of him as we headed down the stairs. Once again, the moment my foot came off the last step, I could hear Utzig call out to me. I turned and headed towards his desk.

Utzig motioned to my camera and the film that sat next to it. "Don't disappoint me."

I picked up the items and started to load the camera with the fresh film. As I was working on that, I happened to glance at his desk. There were new pictures sitting before him. I froze.

He glanced up at me to see that I was staring down at the photos. He asked, "See something familiar?"

I shook my head and he turned the pictures around so that I could see them better.

They were dark. Clearly taken in the middle of the night, but you could make out white spots in the background as well as some white streaks in the sky. It finally dawned on me what I was looking at. I had taken pictures of D-Day from the boat that held the officers. I wasn't even sure any of them would turn out, but I distinctly remembered taking these photos.

Utzig noticed that I had a moment of clarity on my face. "Mind explaining to me what this is?"

I blinked away from the photos. "It's a barrage."

"No. I think not."

I furrowed my brow at him.

He stood up and said, "Don't lie to me, Jane. It's unbecoming. Tell me the truth."

I sighed slightly as I noticed the soldiers in the corner start to inch towards us, almost as if they were ready for the order to shoot me. I replied, "It's from the shores of Normandy."

He nodded. "I thought as much. I recognized some of the buildings in the background."

"What buildings?" I asked.

He reached down and picked up a small magnifying glass. Holding it out to me, he pointed to the picture. I took the glass and looked. Sure enough, under the microscopic lens, you could make out bunkers that were being illuminated slightly from the barrages.

I handed the magnifying glass back to him. "I had no idea that was there."

"I know. But it does tell me that perhaps you aren't being as honest with your answers as I would have hoped. Don't do it again."

I watched as he sat back down at his desk and continued his work. He never looked back up at me again, and the soldiers stood their ground, still waiting orders should they come.

I didn't give them a chance to hear any. I turned and left the building, finishing putting the film in the camera as I started to wonder what was in store for me next.

That afternoon, I watched as a couple officers in dress uniform pulled up in a Jeep. They were talking rapidly and laughing with one another. Without them knowing, I was already beginning to take pictures of them. It seemed almost familiar between the two of them, perhaps they were childhood friends catching up with one another, or maybe they just became good friends over the course of the war. Whatever the reason, they were close and you could tell just by watching them interact. It was almost as if there was no war, no hate, and they were just living life as we were all meant to.

Suddenly, one of them pulled out a pocket watch and looked at it. Upon seeing the time, the man motioned to the back of the Jeep. He pulled out a box and his friend helped hold the items as they came out of the box. I couldn't tell what they were doing until the first man finally put the box back into the backseat of the Jeep.

In the gloved hands of the officers was a delicate tea cup and saucer. I furrowed my brow and lowered the camera from my face. I found myself having a difficult time believing that these men were actually having tea. They poured the tea from a thermos and continued chatting away like civilized people. I continued taking my pictures of them at that point.

When they were finished with their tea, the men put the cups and saucers back into the box, tucking it safely into the Jeep before heading inside a nearby building. I turned to Fritz and asked, "Since when do you guys have tea?"

"We're still people, Jane. We always have tea if we can," he replied.

"How come you didn't have tea?" I asked.

He chuckled. "I'm working."

I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

He added, "I'm not an officer and therefore I don't have the privilege to do so."

Looking around and realizing there wasn't much to take pictures of, I sat down next to Fritz on the fountain ledge. "How long do you think I'm going to have to do this?"

Fritz shrugged. "As long as it takes, I suppose."  
"What does that even mean?" I asked.

"Utzig is looking for something, I don't know what, but whatever it is, it must be important. If he fails to find whatever it is that he is being ordered to find, or if you don't tell him what he wants to know, they may bring in someone else to force it out of you."

"I don't even know what he wants from me," I complained.

He nodded. "I know, but that won't matter to the person they send in to get it from you."

"I don't even remember much of anything. Don't they understand that?"

"I don't think it's going to matter much to them. You're a prisoner. They all say that they don't know or they don't remember. I don't think they will care or listen until you say something they want to hear," he stated.

"And if I lie?" I asked.

"You die."

I glanced over at him. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "I've seen it happen - and not just to prisoners, but to our own men."

I thought about everything he had said. It dawned on me just how serious this situation was becoming. I needed to ask Utzig exactly what he wanted from me before they brought in this other person because from the sounds of what everyone around me was saying, I wouldn't be having an easy time with them here as I had so far.

Fritz said, "You better keep taking pictures. You're running out of time."

His words echoed within my very being. _You're running out of time._ Even though he only meant what time I had left for the day, I felt that the message was more like running out of time for my life.


	15. Who We Are

**A/N: Hey all. Here's a new chapter! I truly hope you're all still reading! =)**

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That evening, I had a moment of deja vu. Utzig was sitting behind his desk, doing paperwork of some kind, while his men stood in the corners of the room, waiting for orders.

Utzig snapped his fingers and his men came up to me and took my things, just has they had the night before. The same guard gave him my bag with my camera inside. Still, without looking up at me, Utzig asked, "How was today?"

"Cold."

He raised an eyebrow as he quickly peered up to look at me. "How many pictures did you capture today?"

I replied, "A full roll, just as you've asked me to do."

He nodded. "Is it in your bag or does Fritz have it again?"

I motioned towards my bag. "It's there." This time, I remembered where I had placed the roll. I didn't need Fritz to rescue me and I wanted to make sure that Utzig understood that.

He set his pen down onto his desk, rifled through my stuff and withdrew the canister. He passed it along to one of his men who left the room with it. He motioned for me to approach his desk, just as before, and asked, "Ready to look at more of your work?"

I shrugged. I didn't have an answer for him. It didn't matter what I said. I'd be forced to look at the pictures regardless of what I told him, so why bother saying anything at all?

He slid a picture across the desk towards me. "Explain."

I looked down at the photo. I didn't know what I was looking at. He could see it on my face. "I don't know what that is."

"It's Brecourt Manor. Does that place ring a bell for you?" he questioned.

I shook my head. "Should it?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "If you are playing at not having a memory, you're quite good." His demeanor changed back into the serious manner I had walked into as he continued, "We used to have a small battery in the fields of Brecourt, that is, before your men destroyed it."

"Huh," was how I responded. I sounded stupid, and I'm sure that Utzig thought the same thing, but I honestly didn't know the place, even though I clearly was there at some point during the war.

He tossed another picture at me. It was several of the men from Easy Company as well as a couple from another Company that I didn't know, smiling and celebrating. I could see they were at Brecourt Manor because the house was behind them. Utzig pointed to the photo. "Any of those men look familiar to you?"

I shook my head after giving it a good look. I didn't have to lie about that one, none of the men stood out to me as being familiar.

Utzig sighed as he continued throwing pictures at me. I didn't have answers. When he finally had reached a breaking point with me, he dismissed me for the evening.

Before I left, I asked, "What is it that you really want from me?"

Utzig peered up from his papers to look at me.

I continued, "You can't possibly just want me to take pictures of your men here for the rest of the war. I mean, those pictures are going to get pretty boring, pretty quickly. Are you going to send me elsewhere, or am I here because you want inside information on the enemy?"

Utzig's eyes lit up for a split second before falling down into the darkness that I grew familiar with. "You're not going to be around much longer if you don't start cooperating. In fact, because you're claiming to not remember much of anything, I hate to be the one to tell you, but they are sending in a specialist to deal with you."

I felt a lump form in my throat. This wasn't good. "Specialist?"

Utzig nodded slowly. "Unfortunately, this particular specialist is very good at getting what he wants."

"Why unfortunately? Isn't that what you want?" I questioned.

He looked almost morose when he replied, "The people this man usually 'works' with, ends up dead in the end."

The gravity of the situation was crystal clear. He added, "I fought the decision to bring them here, for your sake, you see. I like you, Jane, I do. However, it's been brought to my attention that the majority of the photos that you stated to remember details about were all lies, so I was ignored. You brought this on yourself."

I choked back the lump in my throat long enough to ask, "How long do I have before they show up?"

Utzig went back to his paperwork. "A couple weeks, I suspect."

I nodded slowly as Fritz pulled at my arm, leading me back to the comforts of my room, something that I figured I wouldn't have in a couple weeks.

Once I was safe inside the confines of my room, I pulled out the picture of Eugene. I looked at his frozen face and whispered, "What do I do?"

His dark eyes peered back at me, but no answer was in them. I closed my eyes and released a heavy and defeated sigh. If only I had let Anna work with me, maybe I'd remember things and these people wouldn't be coming. If only I had stayed home, none of this would have happened. Plenty of 'what ifs' ran through my head before I finally silenced them. The strong inner voice inside my head was screaming for attention and now was the moment I could finally hear it more clearly.

The voice inside my head was telling me that I needed to escape. It had a plan and I was out of options.

I spent the majority of the night peering out my window. I watched the guards in the town walk about, change shifts, and saw many of them sneaking off to either have fun with one of the women prisoners that were brought in frequently, or fall asleep on their watch. It seemed to me that since we were so isolated out here, the guards felt that there wasn't much to do and they were more lackadaisical in their behaviors as opposed to how I figured they'd be someplace else.

I fell asleep sometime during the early morning hours, and when the knock on my door came, I felt like the walking dead. I could barely keep my eyes open, let alone muster the energy needed to stand up and walk. I somehow managed to walk to the door and open it.

Staring back at me were the familiar eyes of Fritz and Styne. Fritz asked, "You look terrible. Did you sleep okay?"

I retorted, "Would you, knowing that you're going to possibly die in a couple weeks?"

His face dropped. I even noticed that Styne's face fell a little by my words. I began to wonder if Styne knew more about what was going on then I gave him credit for.

Fritz mumbled, "We better get going. Utzig is in a bad mood today."

I was careful not to stumble down the stairs as I made my way to Utzig's office. Once I was on the main level, I approached the room but was stopped. I glanced up at the man holding me up, but when I saw that Utzig was speaking to someone else quietly in the corner, I understood why I was stopped. Whatever the conversation was, he didn't want me to hear it. Of course, I was a prisoner, so it was only natural to be treated as such.

Their conversation was over, and the man he was speaking with left, and Utzig cleared his throat, allowing me to enter. He tossed my bag towards me, which I surprisingly caught. He stated, "You're going to be taking a little trip today."

"What?" I asked, confused.

Utzig stated, "Since you have limited time here now, I need you to go somewhere else before the specialist arrives."

"Uh, okay? Where am I going?" I questioned.

"There is a small prison nearby. I want you to take photos there. You'll spend the day there and be back here to report," he said.

I furrowed my brow at him. I felt like there was something up his sleeve by sending me out there. "What is it that you want me to capture out there?"

"The truth."

 _The truth_. It was a simple answer, but it worried me because up until now, he had wanted to show the world that they were the same as us. The fact that suddenly his mood had altered, and he's talking about some hidden truth had me on edge.

"The truth..." I repeated.

"You'll understand when you get there. We will speak more when you return," he replied, waving me out the door.

Fritz sat beside me in the backseat while Styne drove us to our destination. He stated, "I don't like this."

I glanced over at him. "Why don't _you_ like this?"

He spoke softly, almost as if someone else was listening to us, "I've heard stories about the prisons. If he's sending you here, to take pictures of 'the truth', then something bad is coming and he knows it."

"Something bad...for him?" I asked, confused.

I could see Styne nodding in the front seat as Fritz agreed. "Yes. Something bad might be coming for him...if this specialist is who we all think he is."

"Could you be anymore vague?" I asked.

Fritz seemed scared to talk about it. He looked out the window and refused to say anymore on the matter. Styne had yet to speak to me, so I knew it was pointless to try to get anything from him. For the moment, I had to dwell on the ominous behaviors of the men around me.

When we arrived to the gates of the prison, Styne parked the car. Fritz climbed out, motioning me to follow him. The three of us walked to the prison and I pulled my camera out. It didn't take me long to start taking pictures of the area around us.

I took pictures of the gates, which were barred up tightly. I took pictures of the guard towers, complete with two armed men in each tower. I grabbed shots of the double barbed wired fences that lined the perimeters. Just standing on the outside of this prison made my skin crawl. I was afraid of what I'd see once we entered.

The gates creaked open and the commanding officer had come out to greet us. He stood erect and saluted us. "We've been expecting you."

Fritz nodded and followed the man into the prison. I trailed behind with Styne as we crossed the threshold into the unknown.

The moment we stepped into this man-made prison, the smells hit me and I wanted to double over and vomit. The stench of urine, feces, blood, flesh, sweat, and more was overwhelming. The commanding officer turned and smirked at the three of us. "You'll get used to the smell within a few minutes. In the meantime, use these."

He snapped his fingers and a soldier approached him, carrying handkerchiefs. The man handed them to us and we were quick to put them over our noses. He nodded before taking his leave of us.

I peered into the prison, which was more like a camp as the buildings were lined up neatly inside deep ditches. There was a small pool of water that I could make out towards the back of the compound but it was clearly dirty water.

As I gazed around the camp, I could see figures suddenly appearing out of the small huts. They hobbled around, staring at us. I wasn't sure if I was seeing things clearly as everyone was still so far away, but I suddenly realized what Utzig meant by the truth.

I immediately began taking pictures of everything and everyone. I left nothing untouched. I went through five canisters taking pictures of the prisoners alone, and I was still unsure if I took pictures of everyone. The prisoners were grayed, gangly, and sickly. Their teeth were falling out, their hair shaved off, and their bones protruded from every angle. I took pictures of the dirty pool that they were using as bath water, drinking water, and cleaning water. I took pictures of the injuries on the prisoners, the states of the houses, the dead bodies that were left inside and outside the houses. I noticed small markings on their arms and asked Fritz about them. He shrugged, so I had him ask someone about them.

The man who Fritz asked had told us that they were branded, like cattle. They were given numbers to keep track of. I asked why they were here; he replied that they were Jews, Poles, gypsies, and more. He told us about how he was a simple shoe maker. He lived a simple life - a comfortable life - but it was all taken from him. His wife was gunned down in the street the day they were arrested. His ten year old daughter was run down by a car for trying to flee. His fifteen year old son was executed for looking like someone working with the Resistance, even though he was in the prison the whole time with him. His seventy year old father had just passed away a couple days ago, and his thirty year old brother was sick. He said that he wasn't sure his sisters or mother were still alive. He told us how he had asked the guards what his crime had been, and he got a broken rib for his trouble. The man cried and said that they had been in this prison longer than he could remember - that he used to keep track of the days, but he lost count after seven months. He had explained that they were put to work at some gassing chamber, sweeping up ashes of what they would later discover were family and friends, until they were ordered to stop. They haven't worked in a while, and they haven't had food or water for even longer. He talked about the pile of dead, listing their names, their occupations; most were his friends or neighbors. He spoke about how even though he was a prisoner, he hadn't lost his faith, but had lost hope in man and rescue or release.

It was at this moment, he noticed my camera and asked me if I was going to spread the truth about what was going on there. Was I there to free them? Was I going to save them?

I looked at the man's fading eyes and told Fritz to tell him, "You're damned right I am."


	16. Better Hide, Better Run

**A/N: Thank you everyone for being patient with me as I am so behind on updating. Life happens, but I am so incredibly thankful for everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and private messaged me. It means the world to me that you are still reading and supporting me and my work. Thank you again!**

 **Also, thank you for all the recent reviews and messages. Sorry that it has taken me this long to update and I hope you continue to follow along with me and this story. I'm hoping to find some more time to really knock a few more chapters out so that it isn't as long of a wait between chapters. I do appreciate the feedback!**

 **Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! Reviews make for happier days.**

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The drive back to my 'prison', I had a lot to think about. I realized that there was a reason that Utzig sent us there. If he was a target, as I was, for this specialist, then he knew his time was just as limited as mine was. If he sent me there to take pictures of what was going on, then he was against what was happening. I began to wonder if I had an ally hidden away in Utzig. I wasn't sure I would be able to even ask him that question without getting us both killed on the spot, but I had no other options.

I kept thinking about the horrible stories the prisoner had shared with us. I couldn't imagine why anyone would do this to people. I also wondered if I would ever get the chance to stay true to my word of saving them. Would my photos be enough to do that?

Fritz and Styne hadn't spoken a word since we left. I don't think any one of us were prepared to see and hear what we did. It changed everything for us.

 _The truth_. The truth was hard to face...but what we faced was Hell itself and I wondered about the commanding officer we met today and began to wonder if we had met the devil himself. My mind began thinking that maybe he wasn't the devil, but Hitler was. He was the man giving the orders...I just couldn't understand the meaning behind them.

I stood before Utzig's desk. Surprisingly, his office was empty except for him, and the three of us. The three of us stood there, watching him carefully.

He took the bag from my outstretched arm and asked, "Did you do as I asked?"

I nodded. "The truth..." I swallowed before continuing, "They are on all of those rolls of film."

He nodded back solemnly. "Good."

I still had my camera and took one photo of him, gazing sadly down at my pack. When he heard the shutter click, he quickly glanced up at me. He sighed, letting out a small chuckle. "I was wondering when you'd get around to taking a photo of me."

"Seemed appropriate," I replied.

He extended his hand for my camera, which I passed over to him.

I asked, "Why did you send us there?"

He put the items down on his desk and replied, "I felt it was important for you to understand when I told you that not all of us are monsters, that I wasn't lying. Some of us are against the practices that take place in this war. That prison and the others out there, is just one of the many things I'm against."

"What do you mean, others...you're saying there are more prisons like that out there somewhere?" I questioned.

He nodded. "Several, actually. All over Europe. Some hold about the same amount of people that the one you went to does, some hold many more."

"What about those ovens?" I asked.

Utzig seemed shocked that I knew about those. "I take it you spoke to the prisoners there?"

I nodded. "Hard not to."

He nodded back in agreement, understanding what I meant. "There are several camps with gas chambers used to kill the prisoners, then they are sent on to ovens to cremate the bodies. It's genocide."

"Why haven't you stopped it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I'm not that powerful. They are orders that we have to follow."

"Says who?" I questioned. "Hitler? This specialist?"

Utzig grew ridged. He didn't want to talk about it, that much was clear. He shifted in his place and stated, "About that. You're in luck. The road out here was hammered with snow and ice. It's going to put off the specialist's arrival for a while."

"You seem a little relieved yourself," I pointed out.

He offered a small smile. "Get some rest."

"Wait."

He turned back to me.

I asked, "What are you planning on doing with those canisters? I mean, are you going to give those over to your superiors?"

He shook his head. "No. Not my superiors. Yours."

My mouth fell open. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He was going to betray his own country, his own men, his own orders - to inform my country what was really going on here, what this war was really about. He was about to commit suicide if anyone found out. "How are you planning on doing that without getting caught?"

He pointed to Fritz. "How do you think we found you?"

I looked over at Fritz. "I thought you said you were going AWOL that day."

Fritz shrugged his shoulders. "I couldn't exactly tell you the truth now, could I?"

"How did you even know about me?" I pondered out loud.

Utzig replied, "When word reached us that there was a wartime photographer, we knew we had to get our hands on that person. Everything changed when we learned said photographer was a woman."

"Changed, how?" I asked.

"You'd be easier to find," Utzig said, matter of factly.

I felt stupid for asking such a question. Suddenly, a thought popped into my head regarding Fritz. I asked him, "Did you know about the prison all this time?"

He shook his head. "There were rumors, but I've never seen it until today."

I turned my attention back to Utzig. "So you're going to send him off with the photos? Then what?"

"We hope he doesn't get caught with them," Utzig replied. "Until he returns, Styne is going to be your guard...that is until the specialist arrives."

"And if he doesn't return?" I asked. I turned towards Fritz and added, "No offense." Fritz waved my comment aside.

Utzig stated, "Let's hope for all of our sakes that he does."

I asked, "What do you get out of all of this? What's your gain?" I was still lost behind his motives. Something wasn't adding up in my muddled mind.

He simply said, "Freedom."

Sometime during the night, Fritz had taken my bag filled with the film canisters that I used up during our little field trip to the prisoner camp and took off. He never said goodbye, and I had to pretend that I didn't know where he was going if anyone asked. I thought it was a risky move informing me of what they were planning, especially if this specialist was as good as they were saying in getting information out of people. Utzig had informed me that the last thing they'd ask me would be the whereabouts of a simple and lowly soldier on the enemy's line.

I woke up the next morning and was nervous. Something wasn't right. Something bad was coming, I could feel it. Shaking the nervousness from my being, or at least trying to shake it off, I opened the door to my room to see Styne waiting for me.

He motioned towards the stairs and I walked down as I had the past several days, if not weeks. I was beginning to lose track of how long I had been here.

Just as he had every morning, Utzig handed me my camera and film to take pictures about the town. His conversation was short and to the point. I took the items and headed out into the cold.

I walked about aimlessly. There wasn't much to take pictures of that I hadn't already taken. The town was spent and I had no other option but to hope that something new would happen so that I could do my job.

Styne followed me around silently, until I sat down and asked, "How old are you, Styne?"

He blinked at the question but responded with a heavy accent, "Old."

I smirked at him. "Old. Good to know."

His eyes held a small twinkle in them. "I've served in four wars."

"Four?" I repeated, completely shocked. There was no way of knowing how old he was when he went off to his first war, which also meant there was no way of knowing exactly how old he was today.

He nodded. "This is, however, the first war I have ever witnessed such horrible atrocities. I never thought I'd live to see a day when we torture and murder innocent people, or take innocent people like you prisoner."

I listened to him speak about his ideals, his morals, his experiences. I was beginning to understand why he had so many medals on his coat, and the battle-worn face he had, not to mention the wisdom beyond any one's years.

That afternoon, I asked, "Styne? Do you know much about this specialist that's coming?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his spot. He glanced about quickly before softly replying, "Yes."

I waited for him to continue, but when I realized he wasn't going to, I pushed him. "And?"

He looked extremely uneasy. To his credit, he stood a little closer to me and whispered, "If he does come here, you best watch yourself. He won't hesitate to kill you."

"I don't understand why this person is coming here. What's so special about me?" I asked.

He blinked at me in disbelief. "You know where the enemy is. You've seen them train. You're friends with them-"

I cut him off. "I don't know anything important though. I'm just some stupid American girl who ran off to join the newspaper back home - to come here - so that I could tell people back home what's really going on here. A stupid girl with no memory."

He gave he a sympathetic gaze, but said nothing more. There wasn't anything to say. I began to think that this was going to be my final days. There was no way out.

I looked up at him, meeting his tired eyes and asked, "Do you think it's possible for me to escape before they come?"

He shook his head woefully.

"Why not? Don't you think it's worth trying?" I asked quietly.

He shook his head again and whispered, "It's too late."

"What do you mean, it's too late? If I left tonight-"

He cut me off. "It's too late. I see the envoy approaching up the lane now."

I whirled around to stare down the road outside of town. He was right. There was a fancy car approaching, along with trucks carrying large artillery. I turned back to him. "I thought they were stuck in the pass?"

He shrugged, unable to give me an answer. We stood there together in the cold, watching as the envoy made its way into town. Any and all hope of my escape was gone. I feared that my days were numbered now that they had arrived.

I needed a miracle.


	17. Against the Wall

**A/N: Okay, don't hate me...I know it's been a really really long time since I've posted an update. I moved and dodged some hurricanes and flooding but have for the most part, gotten settled in. I am hoping that I can now focus on writing and getting this back up and running.**

 **Thank you for your patience and for reading/supporting/PMing/reviewing. I appreciate the kind words and everything! I do!**

 **Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy.**

 **Reviews make for happier days!**

* * *

I stood there dumbfounded as I watched the men get out of the vehicles and begin organizing the weapons that they brought with them. A couple of soldiers had gone to the fancy car and opened the door, saluting in the process. It was then that I had caught my first glimpse of this 'specialist'.

He stood at least another foot taller than the rest of the men. His uniform was neatly laundered and pressed, hat firmly secured on the top of his head. His movements were very precise and coordinated. He was escorted into the main building, most likely to be introduced to Utzig.

I turned back to Styne. "Tell me the truth, do I have any chance of surviving this guy?"

Styne gave me sad eyes and a shrug.

"I don't remember anything of importance to any of you...you know this," I stated. "What good will come from meeting this guy?"

I could tell that Styne wanted to say something, but kept quiet. I wondered if it was because if he said anything, this specialist would use it against him, or perhaps he'd be killed for anything he might say. I couldn't do that to Styne.

I turned back around to face the main house and saw soldiers approaching us. I swallowed back bile as I knew that they were coming for me. When they stopped a couple feet away from us, they motioned for me to follow. I felt Styne's old hand rest onto my shoulder, gently squeezing it in comfort as he nudged me forward.

We trudged through the snow towards the house. I hesitated before crossing the threshold. I had no idea what to expect, but given everyone's reactions to this man's arrival, I knew it was nothing good.

I was escorted into the room where Utzig's office was and there before the desk, stood the man from the fancy car, in the fancy suit, looming over everyone else. I stopped in my tracks.

"Miss Finley. May I introduce our new guest here, Captain Sauer. He will be staying here for a while," Utzig carefully stated.

I glanced back and forth between the two of them warily. I wasn't sure what to say or what to do.

Sauer removed his hat from his dark hair, placing it under his bent arm, and gave me a curt nod. "I do hope that we can learn much from one another whilst I'm here."

His tone of voice was like a knife. It sliced through the air with such sharpness and finesse that every fiber of my being was on edge. He was not to be trusted, this I knew deep down into my core.

He smiled at me, as if knowing that I was uncomfortable. He read me like a book and it was showing that he was already winning the battle. Inside, I was panicking.

Utzig had been giving me sympathetic glances the moment I had walked into his office. I think he knew that things were about to get bad for me and sooner than anyone had hoped.

Sauer stated, "I was afraid that I wouldn't have made it here in time with all that snow in the pass, but we managed to carve out a decent section."

Utzig nodded. "We're pleased to hear that the snow wasn't too difficult for you. The skies have been threatening snow for the past few days. I'll have some men bring more wood to your room."

Sauer placed his hat back onto his head. "Thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." He gave Utzig another quick nod but as he approached me, he stopped a couple inches from me and without looking at me or turning to see if I was paying attention, he whispered, "I'll be coming for you soon enough."

Once he brushed passed me, every hair on my body stood at attention. My mouth went dry and I felt sick. I was stressed. Time was running out and I worried how long I could keep myself alive.

 _I opened my eyes and slowly blinked. The sun was beginning to cast it's morning glow through my window. I stretched my arms above my head, arching my back slightly, waking my entire body. I released a heavy sigh and sat up on the edge of my bed, pushing the down blanket to the foot of my four post bed._

 _I padded across the room towards the window, pushing the lace curtains aside so that I could see outside. It was snowing. It was so cold outside that it was already forming tiny ice crystals along the panes of my window._

 _I heard clattering coming from downstairs. I grabbed my robe and pulled my arms through, securing it tightly around me. I quickly jammed by feet into my old slippers and I carefully opened my bedroom door._

 _The aroma hit my nostrils and filled them instantaneously. I inhaled deeply. Fresh bacon, eggs, and a subtle sweetness, possibly maple had hit me. My mouth watered as I darted down the stairs towards the kitchen._

 _Inside the kitchen, my father was by the stove frying bacon. I stopped in my tracks as I watched him work. He turned to see me staring. He smiled warmly at me. "Don't just stand there. Grab an apron and give me a hand."_

 _I grabbed the old apron that was hanging on the nail by the door and quickly fastened it to me. He pointed to the eggs, and I knew what I needed to do._

 _As I was flipping the eggs in the pan, I heard a familiar voice speak behind us. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise."_

 _My father and I turned to see my mother approaching the table to sit down. She smiled at us both, watching us cook together in our little kitchen._

 _My father finished plating food on one of the chipped china dishes and placed it in front of her, giving her loving kiss on top of her head. "Happy birthday, darling."_

I woke to the familiar scents of my mother's birthday. I sat up and looked around at my prison. It was colder in my room than usual. Standing up, I pulled my jacket closer to me, praying that somehow it would provide me with some kind of warmth. I pushed back the old cotton curtain from the window and glanced out.

German soldiers patrolled the area outside, some smoking to keep warm. It was starting to snow. My window was already icy.

A knock on my door broke my attention. I glanced over my shoulder. "Yes?"

"Your presence has been requested downstairs," an unfamiliar voice spoke from the other side. I wondered where Styne was.

I opened the door to see a man I've never seen before staring back at me. "Who are you?"

He ignored my question, and extended his arm out, directing me towards the stairs.

"Where's Styne?" I asked, slowly making my way to the stairs.

"He's been reassigned."

I blinked at the new man and he ushered me forward. Once I was on the last step of the stairs, I was redirected towards the dining room.

I crossed the threshold of the room to see a banquet of food gracing the table. Breads, fruits, meats - including bacon, butter... too much for my eyes to take in, were placed on delicate china before me. I gaped at the display. Then my eyes landed on the man I met the night before.

Sitting at the head of the table was Sauer. He had a napkin tucked into the neck of his shirt, full plate of food sat in front of him. He put his silver dinnerware down and extended a hand to the chair on the far end of the table, facing him. "Please, sit."

I was nudged forward by the new guard towards the chair. I sat down, barely able to see around all the food to meet the gaze of Sauer. I found a little comfort in knowing there were at least six chairs separating us at the table.

He asked as he picked up his cutlery, "Are you hungry?"

I watched him take a bite of potatoes. My stomach growled. "No."

His dark eyes darted to me. "I find that hard to believe. You look starved. Please, eat." He motioned to the nearby guard, saying something to them in German. The guard grabbed a clean plate from the stack nearby and began loading it up with food.

"Really, I'm okay," I started again.

"It's rude to not eat while your host is eating," Sauer stated firmly. It made me nervous, so I stopped trying to decline.

The heaping plate of food was set down before me. I could see the steam rising from the food. My body was dying for a warm meal. My stomach was betraying me.

I could feel Sauer's eyes on me. I slowly looked up at him as he raised his glass of mulled wine at me. The guards filled my crystal goblet and I stared wide-eyed at it. When Sauer raised his glass at me again, I did the same. He seemed pleased with me. I watched him sip from his cup, and I felt like I would be in trouble if I didn't do the same.

The red wine was filled with warm spices as it danced on my taste buds. It reminded me of Christmas dinners. I was taken by surprise to remember anything of those times because I hadn't thought of those times in quite a while...if I had even remembered any of it.

Sauer asked, "How is your food?"

I carefully chewed the food, fighting the urge to wolf down my food. "It's good, thank you."

Sauer continued eating as he asked, "I understand you're a photographer?"

I swallowed a half-chewed piece of ham. "Yes, that's correct."

"I know a little bit of photography myself. What kind of camera do you have?" he questioned.

I furrowed my brow. Surely he already knew the answer to that question. "It's a Kodak."

"I saw it on Utzig's desk, I admit, but I've never seen one like that before," he admitted.

I studied his face as I used my tongue as a toothpick to remove a chunk of ham that wedged itself between my molars.

"What got you into photography?" he asked.

I sipped more of the wine. "Hobby."

He laughed a hearty laugh, but there was something sinister attached to it. I was suddenly on edge. "Doesn't everything start as a hobby?"

"What hobby do you have?" I asked carefully.

He pulled his napkin from his neck, dabbing his mouth with it before setting it on the table next to his plate. "I have no hobby."

I slowly nodded to his response, but remained silent. Something was coming.

He asked, "Who do you work for?"

"Uh...the Times?"

"That's not what I'm asking," he stated, shifting in his chair.

"I'm confused," I replied. "That's who I work for."

His gaze bore into my soul. "Who do you work for? I don't want lies, I want answers."

This was beginning to escalate quickly. I wasn't sure I was going to have the answers he was looking for...or at least the answers he wanted. I swallowed. "I'm not military. I work for the Times...just a field photographer trying to capture the war efforts for the people back home."

He snapped his fingers and the plate of food that sat before me was taken away. The almost empty cup of wine was taken from my hand.

I suddenly felt stupid. I fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book on interrogation. Bribe the target with food and drink. My parents would be disappointed in me, but I couldn't help myself. I was hungry.

Sauer stood up and started to leave the room. The guard standing behind me, kicked my chair, motioning to me to stand up and follow. I reluctantly did so. I was afraid of what was going to happen next.

As we entered the next room, Sauer stated, "I've seen your photographs that Utzig has had developed." He turned to look at my face before adding, "Impressive work, but I want to see it all."

He showed me the desk that was Utzig's. It was covered in photos that I had apparently taken. He pointed to one of them and said, "You say that you don't work for anyone but the times, yet I see the same people in your photos. Explain."

"I said that I work for the Times..."

He cut me off, "Why is this man in so many of your photographs?" He picked up a stack of photos and raised it up to show me the top on. It was Roe. I swallowed hard.

"He's no one," I stated.

Sauer laughed, dropping the pictures onto the desk. "Utzig told me that you don't remember much...some kind of amnesia, he said. I think he's being played a fool."

I could feel the walls around me closing in. I shivered under his evil gaze.

"I'm not a fool, Miss Finley. You'd do best to remember that."

I nodded in agreement. It was all that I could do in that moment. My voice was stuck in my throat.

"Now...I want you to be completely honest with me. If you are, I assure you, the meal you just had won't be your last one," he began. He ran his long fingers through his hair. Sighing, he asked, "Who are these men whom you've taken pictures of?"

I replied, "They are the group I was assigned to."

"Group..." he muttered. He glanced at me and said, "I believe you to be someone of great value to the enemy. I want to know why you're here."

He pushed through the pictures on the desk and picked up a picture of Styne. He smirked. "I see you're putting your charms to work. It's why I ordered him away from this detail."

I stared at the picture of Styne that I had taken the moment that I got to this blasted place. Styne looked so sad standing in the town square, in the cold. His medals dragging his coat down on the left side. I suddenly wished he was in the room with me...a friend was who I needed now.

He put the picture down and picked up another. It was Sobel. "This man looks like he's in charge. Who is he?"

"He was a training commander," I stated.

"Was?"

I shrugged. "I don't know what happened to him."

"Is he dead?"

I shrugged again. "I don't know."

Sauer slammed his hands onto the desk, causing me to jump. "I'm losing patience with you." He walked around the desk to stand in front of me. He towered over me and I involuntarily started to shake in my boots. "If you don't want to be cooperative, you will suffer. Now, I like you, Miss Finley. I want to make this process as comfortable for you as possible, but I will not tolerate this game any longer. Are you going to cooperate?"

I blinked away tears. Nodding, I spoke in barely a whisper, "Yes."

"Good girl. Now...I want you to tell me the truth," he began. He picked up my journal and held it up to his shoulder. "You've done a fantastic job detailing some of the training you witnessed back in the States...but suddenly, it's been filled with gibberish. Explain."

I sighed. I knew he wasn't going to like my answer. "I don't know. I don't remember any of it."

He exhaled curtly. "That's not what I wanted to hear. I thought we had an understanding, you and me," he tossed the book onto the desk and added, "But I guess you just don't believe me when I say that things are going to end badly for you." He snapped his fingers and motioned to me.

Two guards grabbed my arms and pulled me towards the front door. I heard Sauer shout after us, "I tried, Miss Finley. Maybe a night without the comforts of a house will straighten you out."

I was led to a shack in the back of the house. It was a little bigger than a garden hutch shed, but not big enough to really stand up or lay down in. The guards tossed me in and slammed the door closed. I stood in the dark room in the frigid air alone. I pulled my jacket closer to me, sticking my frozen fingers under my armpits, seeking some kind of warmth.

I slid down the wall to the floor and sat there, rocking slightly back and forth to fight the discomfort of the cold winter weather.

It was going to be a long and miserable night.


	18. Don't Fight It

**A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry it's been another long wait. Been busy. Moving, unpacking, all that fun jazz. And now holidays and family visits. Life never seems to slow down these days.**

 **Anyways, thank you everyone who has followed, liked, and commented on the story. I appreciate the support, even though I'm slow at updating these days. I'm currently trying to pound out more chapters so I can get some more up for you soon. Until then, thank you for hanging in there!**

 **In case I don't manage to update again before the holidays, have a Merry Christmas and New Year! =)**

 **Reviews make for happier days! Enjoy!**

* * *

I shielded my eyes as the door to my cold prison was opened and the morning light flooded the small room, blinding me. When the air hit me, it felt warmer outside than it did in my little prison.

The guards entered and grabbed my arms, jerking me to my feet and pushing me towards the house. Once we reached the door, the forced me into the house, leading me into the dining room, where once again, Sauer was sitting at the head of the table, full plate of food and goblet of mulled wine sat before him.

He didn't look up at me as I was seated in the same chair I was in yesterday morning. "How was your night?"

I was started to get feeling back in my fingertips, as I sat on them. I didn't answer his question.

He quickly glanced at me as he took a bite of bread. "Are you ready to cooperate?"

I waited silently for his next question. I knew that no matter the question, it wouldn't be what he was looking for.

He asked, "Who are those men in the pictures? Who do you work for?"

I replied, "I work for the Times, in New York. I was assigned to a group of men to follow behind the lines."

Sauer inhaled deeply. "Who do you work for?"

"The Times." I wondered how many times I had to answer this question.

He drank from his wine. "Who's the man in the pictures? The training commander, where is he?"

"I don't know," I replied. "He could be dead for all I know."

"I see that you're still not willing to cooperate. That's a shame," he stated, placing his napkin on the table. He motioned to me again. The guards aggressively grabbed my arms and jerked me to my feet. Sauer said, "Eventually, you'll learn that I'm not in the mood to play these games. This is just the beginning of your discomfort, Jane. It will only get worse the longer you hold out on me."

I replied, "I'm telling you the truth. I don't know what it is you're hoping for, but this is the truth."

He smirked as he stood up and showed me a new picture. It was photos of the prison camp down the road. "Why would the Times be interested in pictures like this?" Before I could respond, he ordered to the guards, "Take her coat."

They ripped the jacket clean off my back and began to escort me back into the cold hell of a prison. They pushed me in and I barely caught myself on the wall before I was enveloped in darkness and cold once more.

This continued for several days. Sauer would pull me out of the small shed and into the warmth of the house, place me in front of a full table of food, and ask me the same questions. Sometimes, he would show me a new picture, but it was always the same.

Who do you work for? Why are you here? Where is the training commander? There was not much more to his questions. Every time I would answer the same, he would get angrier and angrier. He'd toss me back into my cold prison to rot until morning where we would do this sick dance all over again.

Then one day, he took my shoes. My toes would burn each time it touched snow, but they burned even worse sitting inside the house, where the fire was roaring nearby. I worried that I would lose my toes to frostbite as the snow fell harder and the temperatures dropped even more.

I hadn't had food in several days, and I was starting to lose weight as my clothes started to feel looser than they had before he showed up.

The shed door opened and the guards waited for me to stand up. Slowly, I managed to stand up on my own. They pushed me forward and I fell in the snow. My whole body shook in the wet snow. I felt hands grab me, holding me up as they forced me into the same dining room full of food that I wouldn't be able to eat.

Once again, I listened to the questions, and once again, I answered them the same. This time, however, Sauer slammed his fists into the table and shouted at me, "I will break you, you little bitch!"

He kicked his chair out from under him as he charged me. I was too weak to fight back as he back handed me so hard, knocking me to the wood floor. I felt heat for the first time in a while on my face. When I touched my lip with my frozen hands, I saw that the source of the heat was my blood.

Strong hands turned me over and I was backhanded again. I saw stars and I was forced to open my eyes. Sauer stood over me, ready to strike me again, but he stopped. His angry eyes fell on my shirt pocket.

He pulled me to my feet, tossing me in the direction of the guards. "Hold her," he ordered them. Sauer approached me and opened the pocket on my breast. He removed the picture of Roe that I had been holding onto.

"No-" I tried to say, but was interrupted by a hard punch to the gut. I would have fallen to the floor, gasping for air, but the guards were holding me up, refusing me the opportunity to crumple in a ball.

Sauer glared at the picture. "Who is this?"

I coughed a few times, watching the blood from my lip drip onto the wood planks by my bare blue feet.

He jerked my head up by the chin and demanded, "Who is this? Why is he so important to you?"

"He's a friend," I mumbled through the pain.

"Friend," he scoffed. "No such thing. Not here."

I shook from a chill down my spine. "He's just a friend. He's from the group of men I was placed with."

Sauer asked, "Where is he now?"

"I don't know," I stated.

Sauer nodded. "Still, after all this time, you still won't tell me what I want to know."

"I'm telling you the truth-" I started.

He cut me off. "You are the first, I must say, first woman to withstand this much pain and suffering...it almost makes me believe that what you say is truth." He ran his hand over his face, sighing almost in defeat. "I think I've been too easy on you...I'm done playing your game."

I feared what was coming. This madman had proven that he was on a mission for something, some kind of information that I just didn't have. He was determined to make me lie for him...and I couldn't do that.

Memories of Renee and Anna came rushing into my head. I was so stupid not to let them help me remember everything. If I had let them, I wouldn't be here. Then again, if I wasn't a silly stupid girl and had listened to my crazy mother, I wouldn't even be here at all.

Sauer's eyes were ablaze with anger and fire. It was as if I were staring at the devil himself. "Strip her," he spat.  
My eyes widened at the order. I felt multiple hands grabbing at me as I was being stripped naked.

Sauer stated, "Let's see how long you last out in that shed of yours with nothing to protect you, nothing to hide behind...maybe then, you'll start to tell me what I want to know...or you'll wither away into nothing."

The guards pushed me back out into the frozen world and towards the shed. They threw me in, and I didn't have the strength to stop myself from falling after hitting the wall. I crashed to the floor, and didn't bother moving. I watched as the light from the outside world grew smaller and smaller until I was engulfed in darkness.

The next morning, I could barely feel my body as I was dragged out of the shed and pulled into the house. I was placed into the same chair that I was put into every morning for the past...well, who knows how long.

Sauer sipped his wine, like he always did. I waited for him to begin asking me the same questions that he had been but he was silent. I raised my gaze to a rather large bearded man standing behind him. The bearded man was quite burly and he was terrifying in his own way. I worried that something new was coming.

Sauer picked up his cutlery and ordered the guards behind me, "Give her a blanket."

I felt the scratchy wool blanket drape over my tired frame.

"This here," he began, pointing the knife over his shoulder to the bearded man who loomed over him, "is Lange. He is going to be staying with us for a while. I thought you'd like to meet him."

Lange never looked or acknowledged me, which increased my suspicions on how he was, especially in regards to Sauer.

Sauer continued, "He will be helping me around here."

I tried to swallow, but my throat felt swollen shut.

Sauer must have seen my struggle. "Give her some water."

I blinked at the glass that was held out before my face. I hesitated to take it, but willed myself to find the strength to grab it.

Sauer seemed pleased that I took the water, even though my hands were shaking as I brought the rim to my lips. The cool water burned as it flowed down my throat and into my stomach where it settled in a pool of discomfort. I fought the urge to throw it up.

Sauer began his questioning. "Who do you work for?"

Sighing, I croaked, "The Times."

"Who is that in the pictures?"

"Training commander."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

He sighed and bore his gaze into my soul. "I really hoped you'd cooperate. Lange, break a finger."

My eyes grew large as I watched the towering and lumbering man approach me. I tried to keep my fingers balled up and away from him, but he overpowered my weak fist with ease. I felt the bones in my left pinkie snap like a twig. I let out a pained shriek, cradling my hand.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Sauer said calmly. "Tell me what I want to know, or I'll have him break another one."

I felt tears roll down my cheeks. "I'm telling you the truth..."

"Lange."

Another finger snapped on my left hand. Another scream escaped my lips.

Sauer stared at me. Anger was boiling behind his eyes, but he said nothing more. He motioned to the guards behind me to take me back to my shed.

Once I was back into the dark and freezing room, naked and alone, I willed myself to feel my fingers. I knew if I didn't set them, I'd lose the ability to use them again...but I couldn't see anything. The cold had engulfed me once more, so feeling my way through wasn't going to help either. I had no choice but pray that when this was all over, if I survived this, that I'd still have a hand to use.

The next morning, I heard a commotion outside my prison. I couldn't make out the words as to what was going on, but it certainly had the soldiers interested. They were hollering and whooping in cheer.

The sounds of them started to settled down. I forced myself up onto my knees just as the door flung open. My eyes burned from the bright light even as I shielded them with my hand. The guards grabbed my upper arms gruffly, yanking me to my feet before tossing my clothes at me. I stared at my clothes that were in my arms before glancing up at the guards.

"Get dressed," one ordered.

I struggled to get dressed and the impatient guards spoke in hushed whispers to each other as they watched me. When I finally managed to get my jacket over my shoulders, they grabbed my arms, pulling me towards the house.

Something was not right. I knew it. It wasn't just because of the cheering from earlier, nor the fact that they just gave me all my clothes back, but there was something in the air that seemed off.

As every day before, I was escorted into the dining room where Sauer was sitting with his food. He wasn't alone. Standing behind him was Lange, as well as the normal soldiers in the room as before, but there was a small frame sitting at the table in between where Sauer sat, and where they've placed me this whole time.

Sauer motioned to my chair. "Sit."

I hobbled over to my chair and sank down into it. I raised my heavy eyes to meet those worried eyes of another woman. She sat there staring back at me with bright blue eyes. She brushed strands of her short black hair from her face ready to ask me a question before Sauer cleared his throat, stopping her from doing so.

Sauer said, "I wanted to you to meet someone. Jane, this is Marta. Marta, Jane."

I studied Sauer for a moment before nodding my acknowledgment to Marta. She smiled at me briefly. Inside, I was shaking my head. She clearly had no idea who this man was and what he was capable of doing, let alone what he was going to do to her.

Sauer continued, "You must be wondering who Marta is. She is who I thought you to be."

I furrowed my brow at him. My eyes fluttered back to Marta, studying her features. We looked nothing alike. She had raven hair, mine was auburn. Her blue eyes stood out like big puddles of water, whereas mine didn't even match. She was a thinner frame and shorter than me. Nothing about his statement was adding up.

"We saw you and assumed that you were the one we were looking for," he added. "However, it was brought to our attention the other night that maybe we had grabbed the wrong woman."

I was on edge. Nothing was adding up, nothing made sense. This seemed like a trap. Marta was glancing between me and Sauer, obviously looking for some kind of reaction from one of us, but neither was giving it to her. We had been playing this game for too long to be giving anything to each other. We all knew it to be true too.

I licked my bruised and busted lip before croaking out my first words of the day. "So, what now?"

Sauer dabbed his lips with his napkin. "We talk to Marta to find out what she knows."

"About what?" she asked, glancing over at him.

He ignored her and continued addressing me. "You, however, will get a break to catch your breath."

"Is that why you gave me my clothes back?" I asked.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, but that's crude talk for the dinner table, Jane. I had hoped you had better manners than that."

I caught a glimpse of worry spread across Marta's face when I said that. Clearly, she had no idea.

Sauer motioned to the food and said, "Please eat. You look ill."

 _I wonder why._ I thought to myself. A soldier placed a small amount of food and drink before me. I knew that he was giving me little food because I had been starved these past several days. Sauer didn't want to kill me, but give me enough to stay alive yet miserable.

Sauer turned his attention to Marta. "Now then, why don't we start with a simple question. Who do you work for?"

Memories of him asking me that on my first day with him sprang into my mind. He was nice about it at first before things went south. I worried for Marta.

She replied, "I work for independent papers."

Sauer shook his head. "That's not what I meant." He looked at me and chuckled before asking, "What is it with you women?" He turned his attention back to Marta. "Who are you working for?"

She looked at me then back to Sauer, clearly confused by the question as I had been. "I'm an independent photographer and journalist."

Sauer released a heavy sigh. "I have no patience to do this all over again. I'll ask you one more time before I have Lange get involved. Who do you work for?"

"Maybe I don't understand what you're looking for," she admitted.

Sauer leaned over her before whispering just loud enough for both of us to hear, "You will. Even if I have to beat it out of you."

He stood up, turned towards Lange and nodded. As Sauer began to approach my side of the table, Lange had grabbed Marta and began escorting her to another room of the house.

I stared at the food before me just as I began to hear her screaming. Sauer leaned down to my ear and whispered, "I'd eat if I were you. You're going to need the strength."

When he passed by me, I mulled over his words. He was right. I'd need the energy and strength to survive whatever he had coming next. He had a plan in motion, and I was being forced along for the ride.

I ate.


	19. The World and All Its Lessons

**A/N: Hey there! I've been able to focus on some writing as of late. I'm hoping to get a few more chapters pre-written for you so that I can try to stay ahead of the posting and make it a little more on a schedule like I used to...hoping...fingers crossed.**

 **Anyways, thank you for reading, reviewing, sending me messages, etc. I appreciate the support!**

 **Here's the next chapter. Reviews make for happier days. Enjoy.**

* * *

I stared at my empty plate, feeling guilty. Sauer paced about the room, eyeing me occasionally, but I could see the cogs moving inside his head.

Marta had grown quiet. I wondered what had happened to her. When Lange appeared, he nodded at Sauer.

Sauer looked at my guards and ordered, "Take her back. I have something to attend to."

I wanted as Sauer left with Lange in tow to whatever room had Marta inside. The guards escorted me back to my frozen prison where I was pushed back inside. I sat down on the cold floor and waited.

As I waited for something to happen, I began to formulate a plan to escape. I knew that I had a hard task at hand simply because I was only ever brought out of the prison to see Sauer. There were always armed soldiers escorting me, the little town we were in had armed men throughout, and if I waited until I was inside, there was Sauer himself, other armed guards, and not to mention Lange.

I sighed heavily, trying to remember details in my recent routine, to come up with something that could be of use. There was the cutlery on the table that I could try to steal and hide within my clothes, but Sauer usually had too many guards there watching on. If I were to try and steal something, and if I were to get caught with it, I'm sure that Lange would break my arm instead of a couple fingers.

Thinking of my fingers, I rubbed my hands together, feeling the broken digits. I was beginning to worry that they were lost to me.

Before I could think of anything else, the door opened, blasting me with cold air and bright light. I watched as Marta was thrown into the shed with me. She landed next to me, releasing a exasperated groan. The door slammed behind her.

I cautiously reached out to her. At first, she flinched at my touch, but she relaxed when I said, "Easy. It's just me." I helped her sit up and asked, "What happened to you?"

She grimaced through her pain as she sat up next to me. "He's a monster."

I nodded in the darkness. "Yeah."

"How long have you been here?" she asked me.

I thought for a moment before replying, "I don't know anymore. It's been a while."

She asked, "Why are you even here?"

"I don't know."

Once again, "I don't know" became a common catchphrase for me, it's just the usage was slightly different than it had been before. I suddenly felt an overwhelming surge of guilt and regret. I should have made better choices in life; all of this could have been avoided.

"Is there a way out of here?" she asked me, bringing me back to the present.

I shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't tried to-"

"You're telling me that you haven't tried to escape?" Marta asked in horror and disbelief.

I replied, "It's a bit more complicated than that."

"Really?" she scoffed at me. "I find that hard to believe."

"There are armed guards all over the city. Not to mention the ones guarding our shed. Sauer and Lange sit in the house that overlooks us..." I sighed and added, "Like I said, it's complicated."

Marta continued to look around in the dark. I could hear her hands running up and down the boards that made our walls. She whispered, "I think I found something."

I began hearing cracking and bits of light peeking thru. It wasn't long before the boards cracking alerted the guards outside our shed. They fired a couple warning shots into our shed. Both of us hit the ground, covering our heads, praying that they'd stop shooting us.

When they stopped firing at our shed, the door flew open. We both glanced up to see Sauer and Lange by our guards.

"What the hell is going on here?" Sauer demanded. Unsure if he was talking to us or his guards, we both remained silent. Sauer turned to the guards. "Speak!"

"They were doing something in there. We heard boards breaking," the one answered.

Sauer stepped inside and looked about the inside. He shook his head and said, "There's nothing in unusual in here. Except all the bullet holes." He glanced down at us and asked, "What were you two doing in here?" Marta and I exchanged glances, but said nothing. Sauer released a heavy sigh, clearly frustrated. "I see. If you don't want to speak, then we'll just have Lange work it out."

As Sauer walked out, and Lange stepped inside. I worried that I would be the one he'd grab, but instead, he grabbed Marta.

Before he could remove her from the shed, she shrieked, "Okay! Okay! I did it! I pulled at the boards!"

Sauer's voice came from behind Lange. "Very good. Next time, speak up sooner."

Lange landed a strong blow into Marta's stomach, dropping her breathless to the floor before he left and the door was slammed shut.

I could hear her gasping for air after the punch. Now that we had some light from her broken board and the bullet holes, it was easier to see inside the shed.

Marta groaned as she pushed herself back up into a seated position. She exhaled sharply. I asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I've had worse."

I saw her face and understood her words. Whatever Lange did to her in the other room showed. Her left eye was swollen shut and badly bruised. She had numerous cuts across her face and lips. There was even a faint outline of hands around her neck. I swallowed at the sight of her, thankful it wasn't me.

She looked me over. "What happened to you?"

I shook my head. "I can't remember anymore."

She moved closer to me, examining my face closer. She touched the broken part of my lip, which still stung, even after all this time. She saw the bruises across my face from when Sauer beat me. She even saw my mangled fingers. "Oh...When did this happen?"

I shook my head. Time was passing slowly these days that it wasn't a matter of my not remembering the event but more on how many days had passed between each moment.

She felt around my broken fingers. "We need to set them."

"I think it's been too long for that," I stated.

She moved my fingers and when I didn't cry out in pain, it proved that they were already healing in the wonky position they were in. She said, "I'm going to need to break them again so that I can set them properly."

I stared at her. She couldn't be serious, but she nodded at me with reassurance, so I let her. When she broke my fingers again, I screamed into my shoulder, trying not to let the guards hear my distress and pain. When she set them, I cried. When it was over, she held me in her arms. I cried even more as this was the first form of comfort I had gotten in quite a while.

We huddled together for warmth. As I started to drift to sleep, I began to think of the picture of Roe that Sauer took from me. I had memorized every hair on his head, the distance between his dark eyes, the shape of his nose, the curve of his ears, the stubble on his chin. I thought of every detail, painting an image into my mind that no one could take away from me. I wanted to see him again. I had to see him again. I had to survive this hell long enough to see his face and hear his voice once more.

I fell asleep dreaming of Roe.

 _I wandered aimlessly, passing by several of the men who were sporadically sprawled out across the farmhouse and the fields. I was looking for a spot to rest for the evening. After the day's events at the crossroads, I needed a place to sit and hopefully calm my nerves._

 _I had watched as the group was attacked by ambushing Nazis, killing several of our men instantly. We were missing several men, Randleman included. I couldn't stop wondering and worrying about him, praying that he was okay somehow._

 _As I walked near the edge of the field, I stopped. I turned around, getting ready to head back to the farmhouse to be closer to the men for safety, I saw the shadow of a man standing a few feet behind me. I froze and felt my body tense._

 _"Jane?" a familiar voice asked, clearly confused._

 _I swallowed, trying to place the voice in the heat of the moment._

 _When the man approached me, I released a breath I hadn't realized that I was holding. "Gene. You scared me."_

 _"What are you doing out here?" he asked, stopping inches from me._

 _I felt the warmth from his body as he stood so close to me, and it was inviting. I felt calmer in his presence. "Sorry, I just lost track of how far I'd walked."_

 _He nodded. "Easy enough to do."_

 _I licked my lips. "I was about to head back, if you want to join me?"_

 _He gave me a curt nod and walked beside me towards the house. He asked, "How are you holding up?"_

 _I shrugged. "I'm worried about some of the men that are still missing, to be honest with you."_

 _"Yeah..." his voice trailed off._

 _I studied his face and realized that he shared my thoughts. "What do you think about all of this?"_

 _"I was thinking about going out with the men to find Bull."_

 _I stopped walking, mouth agape. "What?"_

 _He turned to me and repeated, "There's some men willing to go back and bring back any of the men who were left behind. I was thinking of going with them."_

 _"What if something happens to you?" I asked. I felt a wave of emotions wash over me; fear, worry, panic, anxiety, but then I felt like I shouldn't be feeling any of these things because it was his job to be a soldier...I couldn't be selfish in asking him to stay with the rest of the group for safety purposes...especially since he was a medic._

 _He saw the struggle in my mind and approached me, placing his hand gently on my shoulders, giving them a small squeeze. "Nothing's set yet. It's just talk right now."_

 _I examined his eyes, hoping for a glimmer of hope to his words, but I was beginning to doubt him._

 _"Come here..." he said, leading me to a small haystack. He motioned for me to sit down beside him. When I sat down, he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer to him. "You know that I'd never do something that would make me never come back to you, right?"_

 _I glanced up at him. "I know. I'm sorry. I just...don't know..."_

 _He peered up at the night sky. "It's amazing, isn't it?"_

 _"What's that?" I asked, looking up at the stars with him._

 _"No matter where you are in the world, it's the same sky," he said calmly, then added, "Just more spectacular depending on where you are."_

 _I blinked away from the sky to look at him._

 _"I used to watch the stars when I was a kid. Each one had a name, a story...a purpose," he stated. "Each one had a memory attached to it. There have been some that have gone dark and never seen again, but those are the ones that I remember the most."_

 _"Why is that?" I asked softly._

 _"Because for the time that I knew them, they had given me something that only they had to offer. Nothing could take that away from me," he replied. Turning to me, he whispered, "Nothing can take me away from you, Jane...nor you from me, if you truly believe that we are meant to be. Distance doesn't mean anything, because in reality, we're always together, under the same sky, the same stars...As long as you don't burn out, we'll be together in the end. You just have to believe and have faith."_

 _I stared into his beautiful dark eyes and felt my heart warm by his words. When I felt his soft lips on mine, the whole world stopped and all my fears melted away._


	20. Eavesdrop

**A/N: Holy smokes! Thank you everyone for your reviews! My inbox exploded with kind words. Thank you. It means a lot to me.**

 **I've been editing and breaking sections into chapters. I'm getting myself above water so that hopefully I can finish this story and maybe keep to an update schedule like I used to do. Fingers crossed that I can keep up the momentum.**

 **Anyways, thank you again. I appreciate it!**

 **Here's the next chapter. Reviews make for happier days, enjoy!**

* * *

I felt a sharp jab in my side. Prying my tired eyes open, I found Marta laying next to me, twitching in her sleep, her right elbow jabbing me in my ribcage. I shifted slightly, giving some space between us. The moment I moved, Marta bolted upright, blue eyes wide with fear.

I blinked as I sat up next to her. "You okay?"

It took her a minute to register what I had asked. Turning towards me, she relaxed. "Sorry. Nightmare."

I nodded. "It's okay."

She rubbed her hands down her face before shifting in her place uncomfortably.

"What's wrong?" I questioned.

"I have to pee," Marta admitted as she squirmed in her place. "Do you think they'd let me out to pee?"

I shrugged. "Doubtful."

She chuckled. "You're probably right."

I motioned to the corner. "I thought there was a bucket over there. Might as well put it to use."

She crawled over to see what she could find. Sure enough, there was a small dented water bucket laying on its side in the corner of our shed. She set it upright and started to unbuckle her belt.

I turned away to allow her a bit of privacy. I rubbed my cold hands together, feeling the soreness of my fingers, but happy that they were at least straighter than they were before Marta had fixed them.

After the familiar sounds of the belt buckle were heard, Marta stated, "It's your turn."

I glanced over my right shoulder at her approach. "I'm fine. Thanks though."

Marta shrugged and sat back down, leaning up against the wall. "What do you think they'll do with us?"

I shook my head. "I stopped guessing a long time ago."

A moment of silence swept over us but Marta broke it first. "My boss won't be happy if I miss my deadline."

My eyes widened in disbelief as I turned to her. "What?"

"My boss...he's going to be mad if he finds out that I-"

I cut her off. "You're worried about your job?"

She met my mismatched eyes with confusion before realizing what she had said. "Oh, I see. You think I should be more worried about my current situation rather than losing my job, right?"

"Well, that'd be the normal reaction to our situation," I remarked.

She licked her chapped lips. "Your boss wouldn't fire you if he found out that you were a prisoner, unable to fulfill your duties? Don't you have family who depends on the money?"

I nodded. "Of course I do. But I don't think my boss knows anything about the situation here...at least...I don't think he does." I was suddenly starting to get confused and worried.

"Who do you work for?" she asked me.

"The Times," I replied. I wondered what my parents would think if the money I was making suddenly stopped coming. Would they think that I was dead? Would they even care, especially with how things were the day that I left?

She whispered, "The Times?"

I nodded, suddenly turning my gaze back to her. "What?"

She sighed and released a short chuckle. "Seriously? That's who you work for?"

I furrowed my brow at her. "Yes..."

"You really are just a photographer?" she asked.

I tilted my head at her. "What are you-"

She whispered to me, "I'm using the photographer gig as a cover for my real job."

"Which is?" I asked, barely hearing the words escape my lips.

Marta leaned closer and whispered back, "I'm a spy for the Resistance."

My mouth fell agape and I leaned away from her, eyes wide. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Suddenly, it all made sense. They were looking for someone, a woman, who claimed to be a photographer, but was really a spy. Not just any spy, but one for the very organization that could topple over the entire Axis movements. This was serious.

Before I could ask her any more questions, the door to our shed flew open, blasting us with frigid air. The guards stood there, guns aimed at us. "You. Out."

Marta and I exchanged looks before she stood up and headed out into the cold. The door slammed behind them, leaving me to mull over the latest developments.

 _"This is John van Kooijk. He's with the Dutch Resistance," Nixon introduced. Standing next to him was a slender man with a wide smile on his face. I took pictures of him as well as the rest of the people of Eindhoven. I didn't want to focus all of my shots on this man because I knew what the ramifications would be if he was exposed. It was better to just take one photo and move on, as if everyone here was just another happy person being liberated._

 _I felt a hand grab my elbow and I turned to see Roe standing behind me. "Come with me."_

 _I followed him through the busy and crowded streets to a spot out of the way. We watched as Lt. Peacock continued to try and get the men moving. I turned to Roe. "What's going on?"_

 _"We got word that there are German forces running around Eindhoven. We have to get to the bridge before they do."_

 _I glanced back to the Dutch Resistance man and studied him. I asked, "Did he tell us that?"_

 _Roe looked over to where I was looking. "I believe so. Honestly, I don't know exactly. I don't ask questions."_

 _"Maybe we should be," I mused. "At least then we'd be better equipped to handle certain situations."_

 _Roe smirked. "It's war, Jane. It's not supposed to be easy."_

 _I shook my head. He was clearly missing my point, but I wasn't about to discuss this with him, especially not here. We knew enough to know that most of these people were in support of us being here, but there were plenty that would rather help the Germans. It would be impossible to know which was which._

 _I asked, "What do you think of the Resistance?"_

 _Roe cleared his throat. "I'd probably do the same thing if the roles were reversed."_

 _I studied his face. He was clearly uncomfortable discussing this issue...but I couldn't decide if it was because of where we were physically or if it was a generalized feeling of unease. Either way, I dropped the subject._

 _As he pulled me through the crowds towards our objective, I heard violent sobs. I peered over the crowd as we passed by to see several women being forced to their knees. Their hair was being shorn off, much like sheep would have been handled. They sat there, being humiliated but accepting their fate. I stopped and pulled my hand from Roe, who stopped to see what I was doing. Quickly, I took a few pictures of the scene from my spot. I wasn't sure how much of these photos would turn out, but I had to try._

 _Roe pulled at me again, urging me to stay close to him. I watched the faces of the women disappear behind walls of jeering men and women, even children. Their faces would haunt me for the next few days._

I was beginning to worry about Marta. She had been gone for a while. I worried that perhaps Sauer had gotten the information he was looking for from her. If that was the case, would he think that I was in cahoots with her? Would he believe me now if I told him that I was just a photographer? Would he just kill me to keep his location and plans secret from the enemy?

As I sat there on the cold floor of the shed pondering what was to come next, the door opened again, and standing before me were the same guards that had taken Marta. "Out."

I slowly moved towards the door. The taller guard grabbed my right forearm and yanked me out, causing me to stumble and fall into the cold snow. I slowly stood up out of the snow bank, hearing the voice behind me say, "Hurry up."

I followed the shorter one into the house, all the while being pushed from behind by the taller one. When we reached the dining room, I saw Sauer in his spot at the table, Lange behind him, and Marta sitting in a chair, beaten and bloody. Her eye was swollen shut. I gasped at the sight of her.

The soldiers pushed me forward, forcing me to sit in my usual spot at the table. I couldn't take my eyes off Marta. I was worried for her.

Sauer motioned to the food on the table. "Eat, please, both of you."

I shifted my gaze from Marta to Sauer. He began eating, glaring at us for not immediately following his orders. He added, "It may be challenging for you, Marta, to eat, and for that, I am sorry, but you left us no choice."

Instead of replying, she spat blood towards Sauer. Lange moved so quickly that it took my brain a moment to process what was going on, but he had reached Marta in two steps and backhanded her so hard, her blood spurted out in my direction as she fell to the floor hard. I felt her blood hit my right hand that sat on the table. Hard hands grabbed my shoulders, keeping me from moving towards Marta. I didn't dare move, but my eyes widened in fear of what was to come next.

Sauer cleared his throat, motioning to the men holding me in my chair to release me as he spoke, "You're lucky your blood didn't make it to my plate, Marta. Consider this a warning that you'll only get once." He motioned to Lange to pick her up and place her back in her chair. She flinched out of his reach, but was forced into the chair.

Sauer stated, "I have to admire the strength you ladies have. It's quite impressive."

I turned my gaze back to Marta. She was clearly in a lot of pain. I wondered what they did to her.

Sauer continued, "Eventually, we will have to come to an impasse. I'd really would rather that we agree to help one another out before we reach that point. I don't like seeing either one of you in pain."

Marta released a small chuckle. I glanced over at Lange and Sauer, afraid that her laugh would cause more damage for her. Amazingly, neither moved or acknowledged her.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'm running out of patience," Sauer admitted. "What can I do to help you tell me the truth?"

He looked at me, waiting for a response. I forced myself to utter the words, "I've been telling you the truth..."

He looked over at Marta. She could barely open her mouth to say, "I told you all I know."

Sauer smirked, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. "I know a liar when I hear one, Marta."

I furrowed my brow at him.

He stood up from the table. "Apparently, you haven't learned your lesson. That's unfortunate. Truly."

He motioned to the soldiers and they stepped forward, grabbing Marta from her chair. They escorted her out of the room, leaving me alone with Sauer and Lange.

I tensed as I glanced between the two of them, afraid of what was going to come.

Sauer approached me, dropping his napkin onto the table. "What about you, Jane?"

I looked up at him. "What about me?"

"Help me by telling me what you know, and I promise you this nightmare will end for you," he stated.

I shook my head. "I've been telling you the truth."

He pressed his lips tightly together. "Hmm."

I waited as he walked away from me. He scooped up a folder from the opposite end of the room that sat on a decorative table. He held it up for me to see. "Let's review, shall we?"

He tossed the folder in front of me. I didn't move to open it. I knew what he wanted to know. The same questions, expecting a new answer.

When he flipped the folder open, he pointed to a picture of Nixon standing next to a thin man. I blinked at the photo, trying to hide any form of recognition.

Sauer tapped his finger on the image and asked, "Do you know who that man is?"

I leaned in to get a 'better' look and said, "No."

He replied, "This man is part of the Resistance."

"Is he?" I feigned.

He nodded. "You took one photo of the man. So perhaps you truly don't know who he is. However, you took a couple pictures of these women here." He moved the top picture aside to show a couple that I had taken of the women collaborators who were getting shorn. "Why would you take more than one photo of these horrific acts?"

Images of the prison camp nearby flashed before my eyes. He spoke of these women being humiliated as horrific, yet there was proof of something worse just a few miles or so away that truly reflected those words. I chose to stay quiet.

Sauer moved the images aside and asked, "Who is this?"

I looked at the next picture. It was Renee. My heart ached at the image of her. Unwillingly, tears fell from my eyes.

Sauer drew a sharp inhale. "You recognize this woman. Is she a friend of yours?"

I blinked away the blur of the tears away, willing myself to stop crying. I nodded, whispering, "Yes, I know her."

"You know she's dead, right?" Sauer blurted out.

I jerked my head up to meet his gaze. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I had a suspicion that she might have died that day, but I also hoped that I was wrong, that she had escaped the church.

Sauer stated, "I'm sorry that I have to be the one to tell you. I thought you knew."

I swallowed hard, knowing that I was playing into his game. "Why are you doing this?"

He sighed. "I'm not doing this to you. Don't take it so personally."

"But you _are_ doing this to me..." I countered. I regretted speaking up, but it just happened. He was provoking a reaction out of me, which is what he wanted. It was suddenly a lose-lose situation for me.

I was shocked when he replied, "I know it feels like I am doing this to you, for personal reasons, but believe me that if I had my choice, I'd be somewhere else, doing something that really matters."

I swallowed, hoping that I was about done with this conversation.

He moved back over to the picture of Renee. "How well did you know her?"

"Briefly," I stated. Honestly, I didn't want to talk about her. I refused to tell him anything about her. I loved her too much to do that to her, even if she was dead, she deserved her privacy and dignity.

Sauer moved the image away and asked, "What's going on here?"

I looked down at the image and saw men riding on tanks. I scanned the faces of the men in the picture, but couldn't place any of them. "I don't know...looks like men from an armored division moving out."

Sauer pressed his index finger over his lips, studying me for a moment. He sighed. "I am unsure if I believe much of what you've said to me."

"It's the truth," I rebutted.

He nodded briefly before adding, "What do you know about Marta?"

I furrowed my brow at him. "I don't know anything about her."

"Please. You two are inside a very small shed together. You're telling me that you don't know a thing about her?" he asked sharply.

I shook my head. "Sorry, but I just met her a day or two ago. I don't know anything about her."

"So what is it that you two do in there all day and night?" he asked.

"Mostly sleep and huddle together for warmth," I stated. It wasn't too far from the truth.

"Has she said anything about what she does for a living?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No."

"Lies," he muttered, pushing himself away from the table.

I shook my head again. "No, it's not."

Lange took a step forward which caused me to lean back into my chair.

Sauer turned on his heel. "I need to know what you know! I need to know what she knows! I need you to tell me!"

"What?" I asked, confused. I couldn't decide if he was asking me for help.

"I'm telling you right now, if you can convince her to tell me who she is, or at the very least, tell you who she is and you tell me, then I promise to deliver you back to your company," he pleaded. I almost believed him, but I knew that if he was telling the truth, there'd be no way that he'd just hand me back over to the men. He'd kill me first.

I swallowed. "I don't know anything about her."

Sauer grew angry. He walked past Lange, giving him a short nod. Lange approached me, arm cocked back behind him.

I didn't even feel the blow.


	21. Losing Control

**A/N: Hey all. Thank you again for being so patient with me. I do appreciate all your reviews, likes, and messages. Please, keep them coming.**

 **Here's the next chapter. Reviews make for happier days. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Jane? Jane!" I heard the muffled cries. Once the ringing in my ears subsided, I blinked my eyes open. "Jane? Jane?"

I grimaced as I slowly tried to push myself off the cold floor of the shed. I let out a pained groan as I sat down. "What happened?"

"You've been knocked out for a while...are you okay?" Marta asked as she examined my face, clearly concerned about me.

I blinked a few times, trying to get my vision to normalize. "I think so."

She furrowed her brow at me as she looked me over. I did the same to her. Her face was pretty mangled. It was amazing to me that she was even able to speak.

"What happened to you?" I asked.

She stopped fussing over me. "More of the same."

I looked at her. "Are you sure?"

She sobbed. "It was bad this time, Jane...I don't know if I can take much more."

"What happened?' I asked again.

She stifled her cries. "They beat me for a while, then pulled a tooth out..."

I could tell which side from the puffiness of her jaw. I recalled the amount of blood she was spitting out at the table earlier and kicked myself that I didn't put two and two together. But how would I have even thought that they'd do this?

She sighed. "What happened to you? What'd they do to you?"

I shook my head. "I don't know...they asked questions again, then Lange... I guess knocked me out."

Marta glared at me. "That's it?"

I was taken aback by her shift in attitude. "What do you mean, 'that's it'?"

"He hit you once and you're knocked out?" Marta asked, seemingly angry that I wasn't hit more than that. Her face fell and her voice softened. "I'm sorry. I'm just..." she sighed. "I'm just tired of this...of answering his questions and getting tortured. I don't know how much longer I can take this."

I nodded slowly. "I understand, Marta. But we can't turn on each other. That's what he wants. He's close to breaking...and we can outlast him. I know we can. It's just going to take some time."

"Maybe for you," she stated. "You're being honest with him. You might be able to get out of here alive."

I swallowed. "I don't know about that."

"What do you mean?" she inquired. "You've got nothing he wants."

"Except the location of where he is, who he is, and what he's looking for," I pointed out. "He can't let me live with that sort of information."

She thought about what I was saying. "Maybe you're right."

We sat there in the cold, no longer speaking about it. I couldn't shake her attitude from earlier. I could understand being frustrated with the situation, but I'd never take it out on her, no matter how mad I was. Something didn't sit well within me about her anger. I worried that she might take Sauer up on his offer, tell him whatever she could to get him to free her, and I worried that the blame might shift towards me. I wanted to think that I was wrong, that she'd never do that to me, but I didn't know her - not really. I tried to chalk up the feelings I was having towards her as the strain of being prisoners, being tortured, and feeling that breaking point draw closer, but I wasn't sure what to believe anymore. I'd never felt more confused that I did at this moment.

The next morning, Marta and I sat on opposite sides of the shed. We hadn't spoke since the night before. No one had come for us in the morning as they had before. I was drawing closer to the edge of paranoia. There had to be a reason that Sauer wasn't grabbing one of us for more questions.

Marta broke the silence. "I want to apologize to you."

I looked over at her. Her bruises were less swollen as they had been, but the color was still pretty severe. The swelling in her jaw was noticeably less too. I waited for her to continue.

"I shouldn't have treated you that way. I'm so so sorry," she cried. I saw the tears fall down her bruised cheeks. "I just don't know what else to do...I'm scared."

I nodded in agreement. I was scared too, but I had reached the point of feeling like I wasn't going to survive this war.

 _The thing is, you're already dead. Once you learn that, then you can act like a soldier should._

The words echoed in my head. One of the men in Easy Company had repeated them to his friends when he regaled them with the story of his conversation with Speirs. For whatever reason, the words were resonating with me. I was connecting with them on a whole new level. Maybe I had reached my breaking point in believing that I was already dead. The men had to already believe that about me...I couldn't blame them if that was the case. I had been missing for so long, it was only natural for them to think that I was.

Then my mind wandered to Roe. If he believed me to be dead, I wondered what that would do to him. Would he move on or would he still be thinking of me?

"You're thinking awfully hard about something, Jane...and something tells me that it isn't about forgiving me," Marta pointed out.

It broke me from my thoughts. "Sorry." I looked up at her. "Of course, I forgive you, Marta. Everyone has a different breaking point. We all handle our stress and fears differently. I get it. Just know that I would never do anything that would hurt you," I stated.

She smiled a crooked smile, tears streaming down her face. "Thank you. And I you."

I forced a smile on my face, trying to be reassuring. I asked, "Did you have any ideas on what we can do moving forward?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure there's much else to do, but ride the wave."

I nodded at her words. We both realized that there was nothing more to be done except pray that we'd survive somehow.

She cleared her throat. "What are you thinking about?"

I blinked at her. "Honestly, I'm wondering if those that I know...knew...are thinking about me. I'm wondering if my parents think I'm dead. I'm wondering what will happen if everyone thinks I'm dead and suddenly I come waltzing back into their lives."

She nodded in agreement. "I know what you mean. I wonder the same thing, even though I haven't been gone as long as you have been." I furrowed my brow at her comment. She added, "Just guessing since you've been here longer than me, and with the state of your fingers when I found you, you had to have been here for a while."

I smirked, realizing how silly I was being. Sauer wanted us to turn on each other. I couldn't fall prey to his games. "Yeah...I don't know how long I've been gone. I've lost track of the days."

Before Marta could keep her conversation going, the door open and we were once again, engulfed in the freezing air. It felt like it was getting colder outside. The soldiers pointed to me and motioned for me to come out. Reluctantly, I did as ordered.

They pushed me along the path towards the house. Small flakes of fresh white snow began to fall from the sky. I shivered at the breeze that blew through the town. A big storm was coming and it wouldn't bode well for us inside that small shed.

As I crossed the threshold into the house, I walked from habit towards the dining room. I was stopped by the guards and redirected back to the office where Utzig used to be. Confused, I entered and looked around.

The entire room felt different. When Utzig was in charge, the room was well guarded by men, papers and photos littered the desk, and the fire was always roaring behind him. Now, it was cold and clean, not a piece of paper to be found. I suddenly began to wonder what had become of Utzig.

Sauer entered the room and motioned to the chair that sat before the desk. I was nudged forward and followed the order to sit, even though I didn't want to. Sauer sat on the edge of the desk before me. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "So...what have you learned?"

"That a storm is coming?" I retorted. I didn't know what he wanted me to say to such a random question.

He smirked briefly. "I was asking for an update with our friend, Marta, Jane. Did you happen to learn anything new from her?"

I furrowed my brow at him. "No."

"She hasn't said anything? Have you even bothered to ask her?" he questioned.

I shook my head. "Look, I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not in the habit of being a rat."

He let loose a hearty laugh. It was kind of terrifying to see him show that much enjoyment from something I said. He stifled his laughter and looked me dead in the eyes. "Do you think that she would do the same for you, should I ask her the same question? Do you think she'd turn on you to save her own skin if given the opportunity?"

I shrugged. "She might, she might not. I really don't know. It's not like we're friends."

He seemed unfazed by my comment. "I guess we will just have to see what she does when I ask her." He stood up and walked around the desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He offered one to me, but I shook my head. "I'll tell you what I'll do, Jane. If you were to get some answers from Marta for me, I'd make sure that you survive this place."

I shook my head. "I don't believe you."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "I'm giving you my word."

I scoffed. "Your word is about as useful as bull in a china shop."

He chuckled at my terrible attempt at a metaphor. He asked, "What can I do to get you to trust me?"

I didn't hesitate. "Nothing."

"I've been good to you lately, Jane. I haven't had Lange beat you, I've kept you out of harm's way-" he stopped to take a drag off his cigarette. "I've even given you food and drink. Maybe I should move you back into the house before the storm hits so that you're nice and warm. Would that help?"

I shook my head. Inside, I knew what that would mean in Marta's mind, or at the very least, what I would think if it happened to Marta in my place. I would think that she had accepted the offer and was going to pin whatever nonsense he wanted to hear on my shoulders just to save herself. I wouldn't give him the luxury of taking advantage of me.

He sighed. "I guess I can't blame you for being leery of me, Jane. I'd probably do the same to you if I were in your shoes." He motioned for Lange to leave the office, leaving just the two of us in the room. I immediately tensed up, unsure of his next move. "To be honest with you, Jane. I don't want to be here. I was ordered to be here. I don't enjoy doing this to people. I have a reputation, one that I must live up to..."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He was spinning a lie...or was he? His face seemed genuine. I was beginning to become confused, unsure what to believe. A part of me - a rather large part of me - was hearing his words and knowing that it was a lie, an elaborate act that he was putting on for me to lower my guard so that he could take whatever he wanted from me. But the other smaller part of me wanted to believe his sincerity that he was showing me on his face and tone of his voice. There was a whole new war brewing inside my head and I wasn't sure what to do anymore.

He must have seen it on my face because he stood up and said, "Just think about it, Jane. I'd hate for us to have to escalate this further if we can just help each other out. I really don't want to hurt you anymore."

He motioned for me to walk with him towards the door, and once there, the guards took me back to the shed, where the air was colder and the snow was falling harder and in bigger clumps than it had been when I first entered the house.

Back inside the shed, I sat down, huddling against my knees for warmth. Marta asked, "What was that all about?"

I could see her looking me over for new cuts or bruises, but there were none to be found. I swallowed as I said, "He wanted to talk."

"What did you tell him?" she asked, clearly concerned.

"Nothing. I have nothing to say to him," I replied.

She tilted her head at me, almost as if she didn't believe me. "Then why do you look conflicted?"

I sighed. "I'm not sure what to believe anymore. He's telling me one thing, turning around and saying something different, and I can't tell what's the truth."

She nodded. "Be careful, Jane. This is a common trick used to get information from prisoners. They will bait you and friend you, make you feel safe. The moment you do is when they get everything from you. He's the enemy, remember that!"

Maybe she was right. My mind was scattered. I was beginning to fear that Marta was my enemy and that perhaps, Sauer was not, even though I knew that wasn't true. I couldn't find myself in the waves of confusion. I could feel myself slowly going mad.


	22. Under My Skin

That evening, the wind blew through our shed, howling as it blew through the bullet holes. It was the coldest we had experienced since being imprisoned inside. We huddled together as close as we could, shivering as we wrapped our arms around each other, hoping for some warmth to emerge.

Marta and I didn't speak. It took too much energy to even try. I could hear her teeth chattering against each other as she rested her head on mine. Then I heard the sound of cracking. She unwrapped her arms from me and reached into her mouth, pulling from within the remains of a cracked tooth. We sat there staring at her tooth fragments. We exchanged worried glances before she threw the tooth in anger across the shed.

I closed my eyes and tried to think of warmer thoughts. The sun. The beach. Hot showers. Soup. My stomach growled. Instantly, the memory of Roe's kiss came rushing back to me. I felt calmer, warmer, safe.

The next morning, we pulled apart from each other. The ice and snow had almost welded us together. Once we were able to separate from one another, we tried to think of ways to better protect ourselves within our shelter. We had a broken pail that was our latrine, and some remnants of hay that was long rotten and frozen to the floorboards. Outside of our clothes, we had nothing more to offer up to a solution. The best we could do was keep moving during the day to build up heat that way. After attempting to keep active for roughly five minutes, we could barely do a minute longer. We just didn't have the strength or energy to keep going.

Marta's bruises had yellowed. Her jaw had healed from the tooth extraction that Lange did to her. She was beginning to lose weight from lack of food. Her eyes were darkening and she was looking sickly. Much like what I expected to see if I were ever to look in a mirror.

Marta's voice cracked as she spoke, "What do you think they're going to do with us?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. It's been a while since they've come for either one of us. Maybe today they will."

She nodded. "I've been expecting it."

The way she said that made me wonder what she was up to. I asked, "What are you planning?"

She shrugged. "I don't know yet, but I think we need to try to escape."

I wanted to tell her that that was a mistake, but kept quiet.

She continued, "I think we might have a chance when they try to put us back in here." She moved closer to me and whispered, "I think that I could steal a knife from the table and stab one of the guards, you grab the rifle and kill the other, then we could run into the woods."

I blinked at her. "I've not fired a gun before."

"Are you serious?" she sighed heavily before stating, "Fine, you steal the knife and stab the guard."

I shook my head. "I don't think I can."

"Now is not the time to go soft on me!" she hissed. "We have to do something, Jane. We can't keep rotting in this God forsaken shed forever!"

Just as she finished her statement, the door opened. The sun was out and it blinded the both of us as it poured in. Blinking to adjust to the brightness, the guards motioned for us to exit. We followed the order.

I glanced about the area. There seemed to be more guards out than usual. I peered over at Marta to see if she was seeing the increased number of guards or not, but she was looking straight ahead. I was afraid that her plan would get both of us killed.

We entered the dining room and everything was different. There was no food laid out on the table. No silverware, no glasses, no placemats. Lange stood beside Sauer as usual, but things had completely shifted from what we had grown accustomed to seeing.

Sauer looked between the two of us. "I'm sure you're wondering why there's no food today." We remained silent as he took a step forward. "You see, I think I've been too easy on you. And that changes today."

Something on the small decorative table by the far wall caught my attention. Laying on top appeared to be a variety of tools. It felt like what you pictured when you thought about torture. I swallowed hard thinking about all the pain we were about to endure.

Sauer explained, "If you would just tell me what I want to know, you'd be escorted outside, given a ride to the nearest town, and let go."

"And if we don't?" Marta bravely inquired.

Sauer walked over to the far table and picked up a nasty looking knife. "Things would get worse for you in short time." He turned around, caressing the knife in full view of the two of us. "I'd rather it not come to that."

I glanced over to catch Marta's gaze, but she was staring straight at Sauer with eyes full of hate. I worried about what she was about to do.

Sauer asked, "Who'd like to go first?" He eyed the two of us before pointing the knife in my direction. "You. Let's go."

The men pushed me forward towards the table. They stripped my jacket off my back, discarding it to the floor. I cringed thinking about how far they were going to take this. I watched as Lange walked around behind me, then I felt a heavy boot behind my knee, knocking me to the floor in pain. I cried out as I slumped down by the table. Lange picked me up with ease and dumped me onto the harvest table we used to eat on.

Lange pinned me on my back as I laid out on the tabletop. Sauer approached me, leaning over me, studying my face. Sauer asked, "Now, tell me. What are you doing out here?"

My breathing hitched within my chest. "I told you...I'm just a stupid girl who became a photographer with The Times."

He released a sharp exhale before lifting my shirt to expose my stomach. "Did you know there are several places you can cut into the human body without damaging anything vital? Those cuts won't kill you, not at first, anyways, but it'd do just enough to make you wish you'd die, make you feel pain you've never experienced before, making you wish you could make it all go away..."

I swallowed, worried of what was going to happen. I had been honest with him this whole time, but he was adamant in his belief that I was lying to him. My brain was working overtime in trying to come up with a plan to make him believe my words.

He asked, "I'm begging you, Jane. Tell me the truth..."

"I am..." I cried softly, bracing for the first cut.

Sauer looked up at Marta and said, "I want you to watch. Hold her legs down."

"I'm not going to do that!" Marta shouted at him.

I heard several rifles in the room cock. I blinked the tears away as Lange stood over my head, pinning my arms down. Marta was forced to the end of the table where my feet were. She looked at me with sympathy, but shook her head.

Sauer stated, "If you do not do what I'm telling you to, I will, in fact, put a bullet in your head."

Marta reluctantly held my ankles down onto the table, while a guard had a luger pointed at the back of her head. I could feel her hands trembling on my ankles.

Sauer looked back to me. "Have you changed your answer?"

I blinked and felt cold tears running down my temples. "I'm telling the truth."

"Pity..." he whispered as he moved his hand down my side, quickly slicing through my skin with his curved blade. I released a shriek of pain, wriggling under the firm grips of those holding me down.

Sauer asked, "Who do you work for?"

"The Times!" I cried.

Another cut two inches from the first one. Another scream of pain escaped my lips.

Sauer asked again, "Who do you work for?"

"The Times!" I shouted back at him. Another cut three inches away from the second cut; another scream emerged from me.

Sauer sighed. "I have all day, Jane. How much pain are you willing to put yourself through?"

Sobs were racking my body as I could feel the hot blood pouring down my exposed cold skin. He grabbed a hot towel and wiped the blood away. The towel burned my skin, enveloping me in all new pain sensations. I groaned at the feeling.

"Why are you here?" he asked. "Who do you work for?"

"I already told you!" I shouted. "I am just a poor girl who went to work for The Times-"

He cut me off by jamming the knife into my lower right quadrant of my side. A hard scream left me as I bucked in pain on the table. He slowly, torturously removed the knife from me.

Marta shouted, "Stop this! Please! She doesn't know anything!"

Sauer looked at her. "Do you want to switch places, Marta? Are you feeling like the hero here?"

Marta's lips trembled at the thought of being in my place. She stared at me, sending me silent apologies before shaking her head.

Sauer nodded. "That's what I thought." He turned to me and whispered into my ear, "Don't worry, she's still next."

Sauer moved over to the small table against the wall and asked, "I'll ask you again, before I make this very uncomfortable for you." He turned around to show me a small pair of pliers in his hands. "Who do you work for, Jane?"

I choked on my words as I spoke, "The Times..."

I felt the cold steel of the pliers enter the first cut and I screamed.

"Again!" Sauer shouted at me.

I screamed, "The Times!"

I felt the pliers open the wound, tearing my flesh. Blood poured out on its own as he did so. Agonizing screams overtook me.

Sauer placed a finger inside the opened wound, digging inside. I bucked on the table, screaming in agony, unable to keep myself together. He was right. I wanted to die. I just wanted it to be over.

He removed his finger from inside the expanded cut. I felt the hole close and the pliers removed. He wiped me down with the scalding cloth before darkness engulfed me.


End file.
